ompson 
Daviess 


• 


ROSE  OF  OLD  HARPETH 


Rose   Mary 


BY  MARIA    THOMPSON  DAVIESS 

Author  of  "Miss  Selina  Lue,"  "The  Road  to  Provi- 
dence," "The  Melting  of  Molly,"  etc. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY  W.  B.  KING 


A.  L.   BURT  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT  19H 
THE  BOBBS- MERRILL  COMPANY 


I  DEDICATE 

ROSE  MARY 

TO  MY  MOTHER 

LEONORA  HAMILTON  DAVIESS 

AND  THE  WHOLE  BOOK 
TO  MY  GRANDMOTHER 

MARIA  THOMPSON  DAVIESS 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

CHAPTER  I 

ROSE  MARY  OF  SWEETBRIAR 

"TT  THY,  don't  you  know  nothing  in  the 
V  V  world  compliments  a  loaf  of  bread  like 
the  asking  for  a  fourth  slice,"  laughed  Rose 
Mary  as  she  reached  up  on  the  stone  shelf 
above  her  head  and  took  down  a  large  crusty 
loaf  and  a  long  knife.  "Thick  or  thin?"  she 
asked  as  she  raised  her  lashes  from  her  blue 
eyes  for  a  second  of  hospitable  inquiry. 

"Thin,"  answered  Everett  promptly,  "but 
two  with  the  butter  sticking  'em  together. 
Please  be  careful  with  that  weapon!  It's  as 
good  as  a  juggler's  show  to  watch  you,  but  it 
makes  me  slightly — solicitous."  As  he  spoke 
he  seated  himself  on  the  corner  of  the  wide 
stone  table  as  near  to  Rose  Mary  and  the  long 
knife  as  seemed  advisable.  A  ray  of  sunlight 
I 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

fell  through  the  door  of  the  milk-house  and  cut 
across  his  red  head  to  lose  itself  in  Rose  Mary's 
close  black  braids. 

"Make  it  four,"  he  further  demanded  over 
the  table. 

"Indeed  and  I  will,"  answered  Rose  Mary 
delightedly.  And  as  she  spoke  she  held  the 
loaf  against  her  breast  and  drew  the  knife 
through  the  slices  in  a  fascinatingly  dangerous 
manner.  At  the  intentness  of  his  regard  the 
color  rose  up  under  the  lashes  that  veiled  her 
eyes,  and  she  hugged  the  loaf  closer  with  her 
left  hand.  "Would  you  like  six?"  she  asked 
innocently,  as  the  fourth  stroke  severed  the  last 
piece. 

"Just  go  on  and  slice  it  all  up,"  he  answered 
with  a  laugh.  "I'd  rather  watch  you  than  eat." 

"Wait  till  I  butter  these  for  you  and  then 
you  can  eat — and  watch  me — me  finish  work- 
ing the  butter.  Won't  that  do  as  well  ?  Think 
what  an  encouragement  your  interest  will  be  to 
me!  Really,  nothing  in  the  world  paces 


ROSE    MARY    OF    SWEETBRIAR 

a  woman's  work  like  a  man  looking  on, 
and  if  he  doesn't  stop  her  she'll  drop  under  the 
line.  Now,  you  have  your  bread  and  butter 
and  you  can  sit  over  there  by  the  door  and  help 
me  turn  off  this  ten  pounds  in  no  time." 

As  she  had  been  speaking,  Rose  Mary  had 
spread  two  of  the  slices  with  the  yellow  butter 
from  a  huge  bowl  in  front  of  her,  clapped  on 
the  tops  of  the  sandwiches  and  then,  with  a 
smile,  handed  them  in  a  blue  plate  to  the  man 
who  lounged  across  the  corner  of  her  table.  She 
made  a  very  gracious  and  lovely  picture,  did 
Rose  Mary,  in  her  light-blue  homespun  gown 
against  the  cool  gray  depths  of  the  milk-house, 
which  was  fern-lined  along  the  cracks  of  the 
old  stones  and  mysterious  with  the  trickling 
gurgle  of  the  spring  that  flowed  into  the  long 
stone  troughs,  around  the  milk  crocks  and  out 
under  the  stone  door-sill  From  his  post  by 
the  door  Everett  watched  her  as  she  drove  her 
paddle  deep  into  the  hard  golden  mound  in  the 
blue  bowl  in  front  of  her,  and,  with  a  quick 
3 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

turn  of  her  strong,  slender  wrist  slapped  and 
patted  chunk  after  chunk  of  the  butter  into  a 
more  compressed  form.  The  sleeves  of  her 
dress  were  rolled  almost  to  her  shoulders  and 
under  the  white,  moist  flesh  of  her  arms  the 
fine  muscles  showed  plainly.  The  strong 
curves  of  her  back  and  shoulders  bent  and 
sprung  under  the  graceful  sweep  of  her  arms 
and  her  round  breasts  rose  and  fell  with  quick- 
ened breath  from  her  energetic  movements. 

"Now,  you're  making  me  work  too  hard," 
she  laughed ;  and  she  panted  as  she  rested  her 
hand  for  a  second  against  the  edge  of  the  bowl 
and  looked  up  at  Everett  from  under  a  black 
tendril  curl  that  had  fallen  down  across  her 
forehead. 

"Miss  Rose  Mary  Alloway,  you  are  one 
large,  husky — witch,"  calmly  remarked  the 
hungry  man  as  he  finished  disposing  of  the  last 
half  of  one  of  the  thin  bread  and  butters. 
"Here  I  sit  enchanted  by — by  a  butter-paddle, 
when  you  and  I  both  know  that  not  two  miles 
4 


ROSE   MARY   OF    SWEETBRIAR 

across  the  meadows  there  runs  a  train  that 
ought  to  put  me  into  New  York  in  a  little  over 
forty-eight  hours.  Won't  you,  won't  you  let 
me  go — back  to  my  frantic  and  imploring  em- 
ployers?" 

"Why  no,  I  can't,"  answered  Rose  Mary  as 
she  pressed  a  yellow  cake  of  butter  on  to  a  blue 
plate  and  deftly  curled  it  up  with  her  pad- 
dle into  a  huge  yellow  sunflower.  "Uncle 
Tucker  captured  you  roaming  loose  out  in  his 
fields  and  he  trusts  you  to  me  while  he  is  at 
work  and  I  must  keep  you  safe.  He's  fond  of 
you  and  so  are  the  Aunties  and  Stonewall 
Jackson  and  Shoofly  and  Sniffer  and — " 

"And  anybody  else?"  demanded  Everett, 
preparing  to  dispose  of  the  last  bite. 

"Oh,  everybody  most  along  Providence 
Road,"  answered  Rose  Mary  enthusiastically, 
though  not  raising  her  eyes  from  the  manipu- 
lation of  the  third  butter  flower.  "Can't  you 
go  out  and  dig  up  some  more  rocks  and  things  ? 
I  feel  sure  you  haven't  got  a  sample  of  all  of 
5 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

them.  And  there  may  be  gold  and  silver  and 
precious  jewels  just  one  inch  deeper  than  you 
have  dug.  Are  you  certain  you  can't  squeeze 
up  some  oil  somewhere  in  the  meadow?  You 
told  a  whole  lot  of  reasons  to  Uncle  Tucker 
why  you  knew  you  would  find  some,  and  now 
you'll  have  to  stay  to  prove  yourself." 

"No,"  answered  Mark  Everett  quietly,  and, 
as  he  spoke,  he  raised  his  eyes  and  looked  at 
Rose  Mary  keenly;  "no,  there  is  no  oil  that  I 
can  discover,  though  the  formation,  as  I  ex- 
plained to  your  uncle,  is  just  as  I  expected  to 
find  it.  I've  spent  three  weeks  going  over 
every  inch  of  the  Valley  and  I  can't  find  a  trace 
of  grease.  I'm  sorry." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  that  I  care,  except  for 
your  sake,"  answered  Rose  Mary  unconcern- 
edly, with  her  eyes  still  on  her  task.  "We  don't 
any  of  us  like  the  smell  of  coal-oil,  and  it  gives 
Aunt  Viney  asthma.  It  would  be  awfully  dis- 
agreeable to  have  wells  of  it  right  here  on  the 
place.  They'd  be  so  ugly  and  smelly." 
6 


ROSE   MARY   OF   SWEETBRIAR 

"But  oil-wells  mean — mean  a  great  deal  of 
wealth,"  ventured  Everett. 

"I  know,  but  just  think  of  the  money  Uncle 
Tucker  gets  for  this  butter  I  make  from  the 
cows  that  graze  on  the  meadows.  Wouldn't  it 
be  awful  if  they  should  happen  to  drink  some 
of  the  coal-oil  and  make  the  butter  we  send 
down  to  the  city  taste  wrong  and  spoil  the 
Sweetbriar  reputation?  I  like  money  though, 
most  awfully,  and  I  want  some  right  now.  I 
want  to — " 

"Mary  of  the  Rose,  stop  right  there!"  said 
Everett  as  he  came  over  from  his  post  by  the 
door  and  again  seated  himself  on  the  corner 
of  the  table.  "I  will  not  listen  to  you  give  vent 
to  the  national  craving.  I  will  hold  on  to  the 
illusion  of  having  found  one  unmercenary  hu- 
man being,  even  if  she  had  to  be  buried  in  the 
depths  of  Harpeth  Valley  to  keep  her  so." 
There  was  banter  in  Everett's  voice  and  a 
smile  on  his  lips,  but  a  bitterness  lay  in  the 
depths  of  his  keen  dark  eyes  and  an  ugly  trace 

•7 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

of  cynicism  filtered  through  the  tones  of  his 
voice. 

"And  wasn't  it  funny  for  me  to  count  the 
little  well-chickens  before  they  were  even 
hatched?"  laughed  Rose  Mary.  "That's  the 
way  of  it,  get  together  even  a  little  flock  of 
dollars  in  prospect  and  they  go  right  to  work 
hatching  out  a  brood  of  wants  and  needs ;  but 
it's  not  wrong  of  me  to  want  those  false  teeth 
so  bad,  because  it's  such  a  trial  to  have  your 
mouth  all  sink  in  and  not  be  able  to  talk  plain 
and—" 

"Help,  woman!  What  are  you  talking 
about  ?  I  never  saw  such  teeth  as  you  have  in 
all  my  life.  One  flash  of  them  would  put  a 
beauty  show  out  of  business  and — " 

"Oh,  no,  not  for  myself!"  Rose  Mary  has- 
tened to  exclaim,  and  she  turned  the  whole 
artillery  of  the  pearl  treasures  upon  him  in 
mirth  at  his  mistake.  "It's  Aunt  Viney  I 
want  them  for.  She  only  has  five  left.  She 
says  she  didn't  mind  so  long  as  she  had  any 
8 


ROSE   MARY   OF    SWEETBRIAR 

two  that  hit,  but  the  hitters  to  all  five  are  gone 
now  and  she  is  so  distressed.  I'm  saving  up 
to  take  her  down  to  the  city  to  get  a  brand 
new  set.  I  have  eleven  dollars  now  and  two 
little  bull  calves  to  sell,  though  it  breaks  my 
heart  to  let  them  go,  even  if  they  are  of  the 
wrong  persuasion.  I  always  love  them  better 
than  I  do  the  little  heifers,  because  I  have  to 
give  them  up.  I  don't  like  to  have  things  I 
love  go  away.  You  see  you  mustn't  think  of 
going  to  New  York  until  the  spring  is  all  over 
and  summer  comes  for  good,"  she  continued, 
with  the  most  delightful  ingenuousness,  as  she 
shaped  the  last  of  the  ten  flowers  and  glanced 
from  her  task  at  him  with  the  most  solicitous 
concern.  "Of  course,  you  feel  as  if  the  smash 
your  lung  got  in  that  awful  rock  slide  has 
healed  all  up,  and  I  know  it  has,  but  you'll 
have  to  do  as  the  doctor  tells  you  about  not 
running  any  risks  with  New  York  spring 
gales,  won't  you?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  suppose  I  will,"  answered  Ev- 
9 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

erett,  with  a  trace  of  restlessness  in  his  voice. 
"I'm  just  as  sound  as  a  dollar  now  and  I'm 
wild  to  go  with  that  gang  the  firm  is  sending 
up  into  British  Columbia  to  thrash  out  that 
copper  question.  I  know  they  counted  on  me 
for  the  final  tests.  Some  Qther  fellow  will 

find  it  and  get  the  fortune  and  the  credit,  while 
T T »» 

j.          _*. 

He  stared  moodily  out  the  door  of  the  milk- 
house  and  down  Providence  Road  that  wound 
its  calm,  even  way  from  across  the  ridge  down 
through  the  green  valley.  Rose  Mary's  milk- 
house  was  nestled  between  the  breasts  of  a 
low  hill,  upon  which  was  perched  the  wide- 
winged,  old  country  house  which  had  brooded 
the  fortunes  of  the  Alloways  since  the  wilder- 
ness days.  The  spring  which  gushed  from  the 
back  wall  of  the  milk-house  poured  itself  into 
a  stone  trough  on  the  side  of  the  Road,  which 
had  been  placed  there  generations  agone  for 
the  refreshment  of  beast,  while  man  had  been 
entertained  within  the  hospitable  stone  walls. 

10 


ROSE    MARY   OF    SWEETBRIAR 

And  at  the  foot  of  the  Briars,  as  the  Alloway 
home,  hill,  spring  and  meadows  had  been  called 
from  time  immemorial,  clustered  the  little  vil- 
lage of  Sweetbriar. 

The  store,  which  also  sheltered  the  post- 
office,  was  almost  opposite  the  spring-house 
door  across  the  wide  Road,  the  blacksmith 
shop  farther  down  and  the  farm-houses 
stretched  fraternally  along  either  side  in 
both  directions.  Far  up  the  Road,  as  it 
wound  its  way  around  Providence  Nob,  could 
be  seen  the  chimneys  and  the  roofs  of  Provi- 
dence, while  Springfield  and  Boliver  also  lay 
like  smoke-wreathed  visions  in  the  distance. 
Something  of  the  peace  and  plenty  of  it  all 
had  begun  to  smooth  the  irritated  wrinkle  from 
between  Mark  Everett's  brows,  when  Rose 
Mary's  hand  rested  for  a  second  over  his  on 
the  table  and  her  rich  voice,  with  its  softest 
brooding  note,  came  from  across  her  bowl. 

"Ah,  I  know  it's  hard  for  you,  Mr.  Mark," 
she  said,  "and  I  wish — I  wish —  The  lilacs  will 
II 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

be  in  bloom  next  week,  won't  that  help  some?" 
And  the  wooing  tone  in  her  voice  was  exactly 
what  she  used  in  coaxing  young  Stonewall 
Jackson  to  bed  or  Uncle  Tucker  to  tie  up  his 
throat  in  a  flannel  muffler. 

"It's  not  lilacs  I'm  needing  with  a  rose  in 
bloom  right — "  But  Everett's  gallant  response 
to  the  coaxing  was  cut  short  by  a  sally  from  an 
unexpected  quarter. 

Down  Providence  Road  at  full  tilt  came 
Stonewall  Jackson,  with  the  Swarm  in  a  cloud 
of  dust  at  his  heels.  He  jumped  across  the 
spring  branch  and  darted  in  under  the  milk- 
house  eaves,  while  the  Swarm  drew  up  on  the 
other  bank  in  evident  impatience.  Swung 
bundle-wise  under  his  arm  he  held  a  small, 
tow-headed  bunch,  and  as  he  landed  on  the 
stone  door-sill  he  hastily  deposited  it  on  the 
floor  at  Rose  Mary's  feet. 

"Say,  Rose  Mamie,"  he  panted,  "you  just 
keep  Shoofly  for  us  a  little  while,  won't 
you?  Mis'  Poteet  have  done  left  her  with 
12 


ROSE   MARY   OF    SWEETBRIAR 

Tobe  to  take  care  of  and  he  put  her  on  a  stump 
while  he  chased  a  polecat  that  he  fell  on  while 
it  was  going  under  a  fence,  and  now  Uncle 
Tuck  is  a-burying  of  him  up  in  the  woods  lot. 
Jest  joggle  her  with  your  foot  this  way  if  she 
goes  to  cry."  And  in  demonstration  of  his  di- 
rections the  General  put  one  bare  foot  in  the 
middle  of  the  mite's  back  and  administered  a 
short  series  of  rotary  motions,  which  immedi- 
ately brought  a  response  of  ecstatic  gurgles. 
"We'll  come  back  for  her  as  soon  as  we  dig 
him  up,"  he  added,  as  he  prepared  for  another 
flying  leap  across  the  spring  stream. 

"But,  Stonie,  wait  and  tell  me  what  you 
mean!"  exclaimed  Rose  Mary,  while  Everett 
regarded  Stonewall  Jackson  and  his  cohorts 
with  delighted  amusement. 

"I  told  you  once,  Rose  Mamie,  that  Tobe 
fell  on  a  polecat  under  a  fence  he  was  a-chas- 
ing,  and  he  smells  so  awful  Uncle  Tuck  have 
burned  his  britches  and  shirt  on  the  end  of  a 
stick  and  have  got  him  buried  in  dirt  up  to  jest 
13 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

his  nose.  Burying  in  dirt  is  the  onliest  thing 
that'll  take  off  the  smell.  We  corned  to  ask 
you  to  watch  Shoofly  while  he's  buried,  cause 
Mis'  Poteet  will  be  mad  at  him  when  she  comes 
home  if  Shoofly  smells.  We're  all  a-going 
to  stay  right  by  him  until  he's  dug  up,  'cause 
we  all  sicked  him  on  that  polecat  and  we  ought 
in  honor!" 

Stonie  looked  at  the  Swarm  for  confirma- 
tion of  this  worthy  sentiment,  and  it  arose  in 
a  murmur.  The  Swarm  was  a  choice  congre- 
gation of  small  fry  that  trailed  perpetually  at 
the  heels  of  Stonewall  Jackson,  and  at  the 
moment  was  in  a  state  of  seething  excitement. 
Jennie  Rucker's  little  freckled  face  was  pale 
under  its  usual  sunburn,  as  a  result  of  be- 
ing too  near  the  disastrous  encounter,  and  her 
little  nose,  turned  up  by  nature  in  the  outset, 
looked  as  if  it  were  in  danger  of  never  again 
assuming  its  normal  tilt.  She  held  small  Pete 
by  one  chubby  hand,  and  with  a  wry  face  he 
was  licking  out  an  absurd  little  red  tongue  at 
14 


ROSE   MARY   OF   SWEETBRIAR 

least  twice  each  moment,  as  if  uncertain  as  to 
whether  his  olfactory  or  gustatory  nerves  had 
been  offended.  Billy  was  standing  with  the  non- 
chalant unconcern  of  one  strong  of  stomach, 
and  the  four  other  little  Poteets,  ranging  in 
size  from  Shoofly,  on  the  floor,  to  Tobe,  the 
buried,  were  shuffling  their  bare  feet  in  the 
dust  with  evident  impatience  to  be  off  to  gloat 
over  the  prostrated  but  important  member  of 
the  family.  They  rolled  their  wide  eyes  at 
almost  impossible  angles,  and  small  Peggy 
sniffed  audibly  into  a  corner  of  her  patched 
gingham  apron. 

"Yes,  Stonie,"  answered  Rose  Mary  ju- 
dicially, while  Everett's  shoulders  shook  with 
mirth  that  he  felt  it  best  not  to  give  way  to  in 
the  face  of  the  sympathetic  Swarm,  "you  all 
must  stay  with  Tobe,  if  he  has  to  be  buried, 
and  go  right  back  as  fast  as  you  can.  Troubles 
must  make  us  stay  close  by  our  friends." 

"If  I  get  much  closer  to  him  I'll  throw  up," 
sniffed  Jennie,  and  her  protest  was  echoed  by 

15 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

a  groan  from  Peggy  into  the  apron,  while  the 
area  which  showed  above  its  folds  turned 
white  at  the  prospect  of  being  obliged  to  draw 
near  to  this  brother  in  affliction. 

"Yes.  but  you  sicked  Tobe,  with  the  rest  of 
us,  and  in  this  girls  don't  count.  You've  got 
to  go  back,  smell  or  no  smell,  sick  or  no  sick," 
announced  the  General  firmly,  in  the  decisive 
tones  of  one  accustomed  to  be  obeyed. 

"Yes,  Stonie,"  came  in  a  meek  and  muffled 
tone  from  the  apron,  "well  go  back  with  you." 

"Can't  we  just  set  on  the  fence  of  the  lot — 
it  ain't  so  far?"  pleaded  Jennie  in  almost  a 
wail.  "I'm  afraid  Pete  will  cry  from  the 
smell  if  we  go  any  closter.  He's  most  doing 
it  now." 

"Yes.  General,  let  the  girls  sit  on  the  fence," 
pleaded  Everett,  with  his  eyes  dancing,  but  a 
bit  of  mockery  in  his  voice,  "after  all  they  are 
— girls,  you  know." 

"Oh,  well,  yes,  they  can,"  answered  Stone- 
wall Jackson  in  a  magnanimously  disgusted 
16 


ROSE    MARY   OF   SWEETBRIAR 

tone  of  voice.  "They  always  get  girls  when 
they  don't  want  to  do  anything.  Come  on, 
Tobe'll  be  crying  if  we  don't  hurry.  Billy,  you 
help  Jennie  drag  Pete,  so  he  can  go  fast !" 

But  during  the  conference  the  disgusted 
toddler  had  been  pondering  the  situation,  and 
at  this  mention  of  his  being  dragged  back  to 
the  scene  of  offense  he  had  made  a  quick  saHy 
across  the  plank  that  spanned  the  spring  branch 
and  with  masculine  intuition  as  to  the  safe 
place  in  time  of  danger,  he  had  plunged  head 
foremost  into  Rose  Mary's  skirts,  so  that  only 
his  small  fat  back  showed  to  the  enemy. 

"Please  go  on,  Stonie,  and  leave  him  with 
me — he's  just  a  baby,"  pleaded  Rose  Mary. 

".All  right,"  answered  the  General.  "Tobe 
don't  care  about  him;  he'd  just  make  us  go 
slow,"  and  thus  dropping  young  Peter  into  the 
category  of  impedimenta,  the  General  departed 
at  top  speed,  surrounded,  as  he  came,  by  the 
loyal  Swarm.  On  the  day  of  his  birth  Aunt 
Yiney's  choice  for  a  name  for  the  General  had 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

balanced  for  some  hours  between  that  of  the 
redoubtable  Abner  the  Valiant,  of  old  Testa- 
ment fame,  and  her  favorite  modern  hero, 
Jackson  of  the  stonewall  nature.  And  in  her 
final  choice  she  had  seemed  so  to  impress  the 
infant  that  he  had  developed  more  than  a  little 
of  the  nature  of  his  patron  commander.  At  all 
times  Stonie  commanded  the  Swarm,  and  also 
at  all  times  was  strictly  obeyed. 

Then  seeing  herself  thus  deserted  by  her 
companions,  Shoofly  began  a  low,  musical  hum 
of  a  wail  and  walled  large  eyes  up  at 
Everett,  at  whose  feet  she  was  seated.  In  in- 
stant sympathetic  response  he  applied  the  toe 
of  his  shoe  to  the  small  of  the  whimpering  tot's 
back  and  proceeded  awkwardly,  though  with 
the  best  intentions  in  the  world,  to  follow  the 
General's  directions  as  to  pacification.  Rose 
Mary  laughed  as  she  took  a  tin-cup  from  a 
nail  in  the  wall,  and  filling  it  with  milk  from 
one  of  the  crocks,  she  knelt  at  the  side  of  the 
deserted  one  and  held  the  brim  to  the  red  lips 
18 


ROSE   MARY   OF    SWEETBRIAR 

of  Shoofly's  generous  mouth.  With  a  series 
of  gurgles  and  laps  the  consoling  draft  was 
quickly  consumed  and  the  whimperer  left  by 
this  double  ministration  in  a  state  of  placid 
contentment. 

Peter  the  wise  had  stood  viewing  these  at- 
tentions to  the  other  baby  with  stolid  imper- 
turbability, but  as  Rose  Mary  turned  away  to 
her  table  he  licked  out  his  pink  tongue  and 
bobbed  his  head  toward  the  milk  crocks,  while 
his  solemn  eyes  conveyed  his  desire  without 
words.  Peter's  vocabulary  was  both  new  and 
limited,  and  he  was  at  all  times  extremely  care- 
ful against  any  wastefulness  of  it.  His  lips 
quivered  as  if  in  uncertainty  as  to  whether  he 
was  to  be  left  out  of  this  lactic  deal,  and  his 
eyes  grew  reproachful. 

"Why,  man  alive,  did  you  think  I  had  for- 
gotten you!"  exclaimed  Rose  Mary  as  she 
turned  with  the  cup  to  one  of  the  crocks  stand- 
ing in  the  water,  at  the  sight  of  which  motion 
relief  dawned  in  the  serious  eyes  of  the  young 
19 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

petitioner.  Filling  the  cup  swiftly,  she  lifted 
the  youngster  in  her  arms  and  came  over  to  sit 
in  the  door  beside  Shoofly  at  Everett's  feet. 
With  dignified  deliberation  Peter  began  to  con- 
sume his  draft  in  slow  gulps,  and  after  each 
one  he  lifted  his  eyes  to  Rose  Mary's  face  as 
if  rendering  courteous  appreciation  for  the 
consumed  portion.  His  chubby  fingers  were 
clasped  around  her  wrist  as  she  held  the  cup 
for  him,  and  her  other  hand  cuddled  one  of 
his  bare,  briar-scratched  knees.  The  picture 
had  its  instituted  effect  on  Everett,  and  he  bent 
toward  the  little  group  in  the  doorway  and 
rested  his  elbows  on  his  knees  as  his  world- 
restless  eyes  softened  and  the  lines  around  his 
mouth  melted  into  a  smile. 

"Rose  Mary,"  he  said  with  an  almost 
abashed  note  in  his  deep  voice,  "we'll  dispense 
with  the  lilacs — they're  not  needed  as  retain- 
ers, and  I  don't  deserve  them." 

"But  being  good  will  bring  you  the  lilacs  of 
life;  whether  you  think  you  deserve  them  or 
20 


ROSE   MARY   OF    SWEETBRIAR 

not,  I'm  afraid  it's  inevitable,"  answered  Rose 
Mary,  as  she  smiled  up  at  him  with  instant  ap- 
preciation of  his  change  of  mood. 

"Well,  I'll  try  it  this  once  and  see  what  hap- 
pens," answered  Everett  with  a  laugh.  "In- 
deed, I'm  ashamed  of  having  shown  you  any 
impatience  at  all — to  think  of  impatience  in  this 
heaven  country  of  hospitality  amounts  to  posi- 
tive sacrilege.  Shrive  me — and  then  bring  on 
your  lilacs !" 

"Then  you'll  stay  with  us  until  it's  safe  for 
you  to  go  North  and  I  won't  have  to  worry 
about  you  any  more?"  exclaimed  Rose  Mary, 
delighted,  as  she  beamed  up  over  Pete's  tow- 
head  that  had  dropped  with  repletion  on  her 
breast.  Shoofly,  who,  true  to  her  appellation, 
had  been  making  funny  little  dabs  of  delight 
at  a  fly  or  two  which  had  buzzed  in  her  direc- 
tion, had  crawled  nearer  and  burrowed  her 
head  under  Rose  Mary's  knee,  rolled  over  on 
her  little  stomach  and  gone  instantaneously 
and  exhaustedly  to  sleep.  Rose  Mary  adjusted 
21 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

a  smothering  fold  of  her  dress  and  continued 
in  her  rejoicing  over  Everett's  surrender  to 
circumstance  inevitable. 

"And  do  you  think  you  can  dig  some  more 
in  the  fields  ?  Don't  happiness  and  hoe  mean  the 
same  thing  to  most  men  ?"  she  questioned  with 
a  laugh. 

"Yes,  hoe  to  the  death  and  the  devil  take  the 
last  man  at  the  end  of  the  row,  fortune  to  the 
first!"  answered  Everett  with  a  return  of  his 
cynical  look  and  tone. 

"Oh,  but  in  the  world  some  men  just  go 
along  and  chop  down  ugly  weeds,  stir  up  the 
good,  smelly  earth  for  things  to  grow  in,  reach 
over  to  help  the  man  in  the  next  furrow  if  he 
needs  it,  and  all  come  home  at  sundown  to- 
gether— and  the  women  have  the  supper  ready. 
That's  the  kind  of  hoeing  I  want  you  to  do — 
please  dig  me  up  those  teeth  for  Aunt  Viney 
and  I'll  have  johnny-cake  and  fried  chicken 
waiting  for  you  every  night.  Please,  sir, 
promise!"  And  Rose  Mary's  voice  sounded 

22 


ROSE   MARY   OF    SWEETBRIAR 

its  coaxing,  comforting  note,  while  her  deep 
eyes  brooded  over  him. 

"I  promise,"  answered  Everett  with  a  laugh. 
"I  tell  you  what  I  think  I  will  do.  As  I  under- 
stand it,  the  Briars  has  about  three  hundred 
acres,  all  told.  I  have  been  all  over  it  for  the 
oil  and  there  is  none  in  any  paying  quantities. 
But  in  this  kind  of  formation  any  number  of 
other  things  may  crop  up  or  out.  I  am  going 
to  go  over  every  acre  of  it  carefully  and  find 
exactly  what  can  be  expected  of  it.  There  may 
be  nothing  of  any  value  in  a  mineral  way,  but 
as  I  go  I  am  going  to  make  soil  tests,  and  then 
put  it  all  down  on  a  complete  map  and  figure 
out  just  what  your  Uncle  Tucker  ought  to 
plant  in  each  place  for  years  to  come.  It  will 
kill  a  lot  of  time,  and  then  it  might  be  doing 
something  for  you  dear  people,  who  have  taken 
a  miserable,  cross  invalid  of  a  stranger  man  in 
out  of  the  wet  and  made  a  well  chap  of  him 
again. 

"Do  you  know  what  you  have  done  for 
23 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

me?  That  day  when  I  had  tramped  over 
from  Boliver  just  to  get  away  from  the  Citi- 
zens' Hotel  and  myself  and  perched  upon  Mr. 
Alloway's  north  lot  fence  like  a  miserable  fu- 
neral crow,  I  had  reached  my  limit,  and  my 
spirit  had  turned  its  face  to  the  wall.  I  had 
been  down  South  six  weeks  and  couldn't  see 
that  I  felt  one  bit  stronger.  I  had  just  heard 
of  this  copper  expedition  from  one  of  the 
chaps,  who  had  written  me  a  heedlessly  ex- 
ultant letter  about  it,  and  I  was  down  and  out 
and  no  strength  left  to  fight.  I  was  too  weak 
to  take  it  like  a  man,  and  couldn't  make  up 
my  mind  to  cry  like  a  woman,  though  I  wanted 
to.  Just  as  it  was  at  its  worst  your  Uncle 
Tucker  appeared  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence, 
and  when  he  looked  at  me  with  those  great, 
heaven-big  eyes  of  his  I  fell  over  into  his  arms 
with  a  funny,  help-has-come  dying  gasp.  As 
you  know,  when  I  woke  I  was  anchored  in  the 
middle  of  that  puffy  old  four-poster  in  my 
room  under  the  blessed  roof  of  the  Briars  and 
24 


ROSE   MARY   OF    SWEETBRIAR 

you  were  pouring  something  glorious  and  hot 
down  my  throat,  while  the  wonderful  old 
angel-man  in  the  big  gray  hat,  who  had  got 
me  out  in  the  field,  was  flapping  his  wings 
around  on  the  other  side  of  the  pillows.  I 
went  to  sleep  under  your  very  hands — and  I 
haven't  waked  up  yet — except  in  ugly,  impa- 
tient ways.  I  never  want  to." 

"I  wonder  what  you  would  be  like — awake?" 
said  Rose  Mary  softly,  as  she  gently  lowered 
the  head  of  young  Peter  down  into  the  hollow 
of  her  arm,  where,  in  close  proximity  to  Shoo- 
fly's,  he  nodded  off  into  the  depths.  "I  think 
I'm  afraid  to  try  waking  you.  I'm  always  so 
happy  when  Aunt  Viney  has  snuffed  away  her 
asthma  with  jimson  weed  and  got  down  on  her 
pillow,  and  I  have  rubbed  all  her  joints;  when 
the  General  has  said  his  prayers  without  stop- 
ping to  argue  in  the  middle,  and  Uncle  Tucker 
has  finished  his  chapter  and  pipe  in  bed  with- 
out setting  us  all  on  fire,  that  I  regard  people 
asleep  as  in  a  most  blessed  condition.  Won't 
25 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

you  please  try  and  stay  happy,  tucked  away  fast 
here  at  the  Briars,  without  wanting  to  wake 
up  and  go  all  over  New  York,  when  I  won't 
know  whether  you  are  getting  cold  or  hungry 
or  wet  or  a  pain  in  your  lungs  ?" 

"Again  I  promise!  Just  wake  me  enough 
to  go  out  and  hoe  for  you  is  all  I  ask — your 
row  and  your  kind  of  hoeing." 

"Maybe  hoeing  in  my  row  will  make  you 
finish  your  own  in  fine  style,"  laughed 
Rose  Mary.  "And  I  think  it's  wonderful 
of  you  to  study  up  our  land  so  Uncle 
Tucker  can  do  better  with  it.  We  never  seem 
to  be  able  to  make  any  more  than  just  the  mort- 
gage interest,  and  what  we'll  wear  when 
the  trunks  in  the  garret  are  empty  I  don't  see. 
We'll  have  to  grow  feathers.  Things  like  false 
teeth  just  seem  to  be  impossible." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  the  Briars  is 

seriously    encumbered?"    demanded    Everett, 

with  a  quick  frown  showing  between  his  brows 

and  a  business-keen  look  coming  into  his  eyes. 

26 


ROSE    MARY   OF    SWEETBRIAR 

"The  mortgage  on  the  Briars  covers  it  as 
completely  as  the  vines  on  the  wall,"  answered 
Rose  Mary  quickly,  with  a  humorous  quirk 
at  her  mouth  that  relieved  the  note  of  pain  in 
her  voice.  "I  know  we  can  never  pay  it,  but 
if  something  could  be  done  to  keep  it  for  the 
old  folks  always,  I  think  Stonie  and  I  could 
stand  it.  They  were  born  here  and  their  roots 
strike  deep  and  twine  with  the  roots  of  every 
tree  and  bush  at  the  Briars.  Their  graves  are 
over  there  behind  the  stone  wall,  and  all  their 
joys  and  sorrows  have  come  t©  them  along 
Providence  Road.  I  am  not  unhappy  over  k, 
because  I  know  that  their  Master  isn't  going 
to  let  anything  happen  to  take  them  away. 
Every  night  before  I  go  to  sleep  I  just  leave 
them  to  Him  until  I  can  wake  up  in  the  morn- 
ing to  begin  to  keep  care  of  them  for  Him 
again.  It  was  all  about — " 

"Wait  a  minute,  let  me  ask  you  some  ques- 
tions before  you  tell  me  any  more,"  said  Ev- 
erett,   quickly    covering    the    sympathy    that 
27 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

showed  in  his  eyes  with  his  business  tone  of 
voice.  "Is  it  Gideon  Newsome  who  holds  this 
mortgage  ?" 

"Why,  yes,  how  did  you  know?"  asked  Rose 
Mary  with  a  mild  surprise  in  her  eyes  as  she 
raised  them  to  his,  bent  intently  on  her.  "Uncle 
Tucker  had  to  get  the  money  from  him  six 
years  ago.  It — it  was  a  debt  of  honor — he — 
we  had  to  pay."  A  rich  crimson  spread  itself 
over  Rose  Mary's  brow  and  cheeks  and  flooded 
down  her  white  neck  under  the  folds  of  her 
blue  dress  across  her  breast.  Tears  rose  to 
her  eyes,  but  she  lifted  her  head  proudly  and 
looked  him  straight  in  the  face.  "There  is  a 
reason  why  I  would  give  my  life — why  I  do 
and  must  give  my  life  to  protecting  them  from 
the  consequences  of  the  disaster.  No  sacrifice 
is  too  great  for  me  to  make  to  save  their  home 
for  them." 

"Do  you  mind  telling  me  how  much  the 
mortgage  is  for?"  asked  Everett,  still  in  his 
cool,  thoughtful  voice. 

28 


ROSE   MARY   OF    SWEETBRIAR 

"For  ten  thousand  dollars,"  answered  Rose 
Mary.  "The  land  is  worth  really  less  than 
fifteen.  Nobody  but  such  a — such  a  friend  as 
Mr.  Newsome  would  have  loaned  Uncle 
Tucker  so  much.  He — he  has  been  very  kind 
to  us.  I — I  am  very  grateful  to  him  and  I — " 
Rose  Mary  faltered  and  dropped  her  eyes.  A 
tear  trembled  on  the  edge  of  her  black  lashes 
and  then  splashed  on  to  the  chubby  cheek  of 
Peter  the  reposer. 

"I  see,"  said  Everett  coolly,  and  a  flint  tone 
made  his  usually  rich  voice  harsh  and  tight. 
For  a  few  minutes  he  sat  quietly  looking  Rose 
Mary  over  with  an  inscrutable  look  in  his  eyes 
that  finally  faded  again  into  the  utter  world 
weariness.  "I  see — and  so  the  bargain  and  sale 
goes  on  even  on  Providence  Road  under  Old 
Harpeth.  But  the  old  people  will  never  have  to 
give  up  the  Briars  while  you  are  here  to  pay  the 
price  of  their  protection,  Rose  Mary.  Never !" 

"I  don't  believe  they  will — my  faith  in  Him 
makes  me  sure,"  answered  Rose  Mary  with 
29 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

lovely  unconsciousness  as  she  raised  large, 
comforted  eyes  to  Everett's.  "I  don't  know 
how  I'm  going  to  manage,  but  somehow  my 
cup  of  faith  seems  to  get  rilled  each  day  with 
the  wine  of  courage  and  the  result  is  mighty 
apt  to  be  a — song."  And  Rose  Mary's  face 
blushed  out  again  into  a  flowering  of  smiles. 

"A  s«rt  of  cup  of  heavenly  nectar,"  an- 
swered Everett  with  an  answering  smile,  but 
the  keen  look  still  in  his  eyes.  "See  here,  I 
want  you  to  promise  me  something — don't 
ever,  under  any  circumstances,  tell  anybody 
that  I  know  about  this  mortgage.  Will  you?" 

"Of  course,  I  won't  if  you  tell  me  not  to," 
answered  Rose  Mary  immediately.  "I  don't 
like  to  think  or  talk  about  it.  I  only  told  you 
because  you  wanted  to  help  us.  Help  offers 
are  the  silver  linings  to  trouble  clouds,  and 
you  brought  this  one  down  on  yourself,  didn't 
you?  Of  course,  it's  selfish  and  wrong  to  tell 
people  about  your  anxie'ties,  but  there  is  just 
no  other  way  to  get  so  close  to  a  friend.  Don't 
30 


ROSE   MARY   OF    SWEETBRIAR 

you  think  perhaps  sometimes  the  Lord  doesn't 
bother  to  'temper  the  winds,'  but  just  leads  you 
up  on  the  sheltered  side  of  somebody  who  is 
stronger  than  you  are  and  leaves  you  there 
until  your  storm  is  over?" 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  FOLKS-GARDEN 

"TT7ELL,"  said  Uncle  Tucker  medita- 
V  V  lively,  "I  reckon  a  festibul  on  a 
birthday  can  be  taken  as  a  kind  of  compliment 
to  the  Lord  and  no  special  glorification  to 
yourself.  He  instuted  your  first  one  Himself, 
and  I  see  no  harm  in  jest  a-marking  of  the 
years  He  sends  you.  What  are  Sister  Viney's 
special  reasons  against  the  junket?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  what  makes  Aunt  Viney 
feel  this  way!"  exclaimed  Rose  Mary  with 
distress  in  her  blue  eyes  that  she  raised  to 
Uncle  Tucker's,  that  were  bent  benignly  upon 
her  as  she  stood  in  the  barn  door  beside  him. 
"She  says  that  as  the  Lord  has  granted  her  her 
fourscore  years  by  reason  of  great  strength, 
she  oughtn't  to  remind  Him  that  He  has  for- 
32 


THE   FOLKS-GARDEN 

gotten  her  by  having  an  eighty-second  birthday. 
Everybody  in  Sweetbriar  has  been  looking  for- 
ward to  it  for  a  week,  and  it  was  going  to  be 
such  a  lovely  party.  What  shall  we  do  ?  She 
says  she  just  won't  have  it,  and  Aunt  Amandy 
is  crying  when  Aunt  Viney  don't  see  it.  She's 
made  up  her  mind,  and  I  don't  know  what 
more  to  say  to  her." 

"Rose  Mary,"  said  Uncle  Tucker,  with  a 
quizzical  smile  quirking  at  the  corners  of  his 
mouth,  "mighty  often  the  ingredient  of  per- 
manency is  left  out  in  the  making  up  of  a  wom- 
an's mind,  one  way  or  another.  Can't  you 
kinder  pervail  with  your  Aunt  Viney  some? 
I've  got  a  real  hanker  after  this  little  birthday 
to-do.  Jest  back  her  around  to  another  view 
of  the  question  with  a  slack  plow-line.  Looks 
like  it's  too  bad  to — " 

"Rose  Mary,  oh,  Rose  Mary,  where  are  ye, 
child  ?"  came  a  call  in  a  high,  sweet  old  quaver 
of  a  voice  from  down  the  garden  path,  and 
Miss  Amanda  hove  in  sight,  hurrying  along  on 

33 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

eager  but  tottering  little  feet.  Her  short, 
skimpy,  gray  skirts  fluttered  in  the  spring 
breezes  and  her  bright,  old  eyes  peered  out 
from  the  gray  shawl  she  held  over  her  head 
with  tremulous  excitement.  She  was  both 
laughing  and  panting  as  Rose  Mary  threw  her 
arm  around  her  and  drew  her  into  the  door  of 
the  barn.  "Sister  Viney  has  consented  in  her 
mind  about  the  party,  all  along  of  a  verse  I 
was  just  now  a-reading  to  her  in  our  morning 
lesson.  Saint  Luke  says:  'It  is  meet  that  we 
should  make  merry  and  be  glad,  for  this  thy 
brother  was  dead  and  is  alive  again/  and  at 
the  same  minute  the  recollection  of  how  sick 
Mr.  Mark  has  been  hit  us  both.  'There  now,' 
she  says,  'you  folks  can  jest  go  on  with  that 
party  to-day  for  the  benefit  of  our  young 
brother  Everett's  coming  to  so  good  after  all 
his  sufferings.  This  time  I  will  consider  it  as 
instituted  of  the  Lord,  but  don't  nobody  say 
birthday  next  April,  if  I'm  here,  on  no  account 
whatever.'  I  take  it  as  a  special  leading  to  me 
34 


THE   FOLKS-GARDEN 

to  have  read  that  verse  this  morning  to  Sister 
Viney,  and  won't  you  please  go  over  and  tell 
Sally  Rucker  to  go  on  with  the  cake,  Rose 
Mary?  Sister  Viney  called  Jennie  over  by 
sun-up,  when  she  took  this  notion,  and  told  her 
to  tell  her  mother  not  to  make  it,  even  if  she 
had  already  broke  all  the  sixteen  eggs." 

"Yes,  Aunt  Amandy,  I'll  run  over  and  tell 
Mrs.  Rucker,  and  then  we  will  begin  right 
away  to  get  things  ready.  I  am  so  glad  Aunt 
Viney  is — " 

"Rose  Mamie,  Rose  Mamie,"  came  another 
loud  hail  from  up  the  path  toward  the  house 
and  down  came  the  General  at  top  speed,  with 
a  plumy  setter  frisking  in  his  wake.  "Aunt 
Viney  says  for  you  to  come  there  to  her  this 
minute.  They  is  a-going  to  be  the  party  and 
it's  right  by  the  Bible  to  have  it,  some  for  Mr. 
Mark,  too.  Tobe  Poteet  said  'shoo'  when  I 
told  him  he  couldn't  come,  'cause  they  wasn't 
a-going  to  be  no  party  on  account  of  worrying 
the  Lord  about  forgetting  Aunt  Viney,  and  I 
35 


ROSE   OF   OLD   HARPETH 

was  jest  a-going  to  knock  him  into  stuffings, 
'cause  they  can't  nobody  say  'shoo'  at  the  Bible 
or  Aunt  Viney  neither,  to  me,  when  there 
Aunt  Viney  called  for  us  to  go  tell  everybody 
that  the  party  was  a-going  off  and  be  sure  and 
come.  I  believe  God  let  her  call  me  before  I 
hit  Tobe,  'cause  I  ain't  never  hit  him  yet,  and 
maybe  now  I  never  will  have  to."  The  Gen- 
eral paused,  and  an  expression  of  devout 
thankfulness  came  into  his  small  face  at  thus 
being  saved  the  necessity  of  administering 
chastisement  to  his  henchman,  Tobe  the  ad- 
venturous. 

"I  believe  he  did,  Stonie,  and  how  thankful 
I  am,"  exclaimed  little  Miss  Amanda,  with  real 
relief  at  this  deliverance  of  young  Tobe,  who 
was  her  especial,  both  self-elected  and  chosen, 
knight  from  the  General's  cohorts. 

"Yes'm,"  answered  Stonie.  "Come  on  now, 
Rose  Mamie!  Put  your  hand  on  me,  Aunt 
Amandy,  and  I'll  go  slow  with  you,"  and  pre- 
senting his  sturdy  little  shoulder  to  Miss 
36 


THE   FOLKS-GARDEN 

Amanda  on  one  side  and  drawing  Rose  Mary 
along  with  him  on  the  other,  Stonewall  Jack- 
son hurried  them  both  away  to  the  house. 

"Well,"  remarked  Uncle  Tucker  to  himself 
as  he  took  up  a  measure  of  grain  from  a  bin  in 
the  corner  of  the  feed-room  and  scattered  some 
in  front  of  a  row  of  half-barrel  nests  upon 
which  brooded  a  dozen  complacent  setting 
hens,  "well,  if  the  Lord  has  to  pester  with  the 
affairs  of  Sweetbriar  to  the  extent  Stonie  and 
the  sisters,  Rose  Mary,  too,  are  a-giving  Him 
the  credit  of  doing  looks  like  we  might  be 
a-getting  more'n  our  share  of  His  attentions. 
I  reckon  by  the  time  He  gets  all  the  women 
and  children  doings  settled  up  for  the  day  He 
finds  some  of  the  men  have  slipped  the  bridle 
and  gone.  That  would  account  for  some  of 
these  here  wild  covortings  around  in  the  world 
we  hear  about  by  the  newspapers.  But  He'll 
git  'em  some  day  sure  as — " 

"Am  I  interrupting  any  confidence  between 
you  and  the  Mrs.  Biddies,  Mr.  Alloway?" 
37 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

asked  Everett,  as  he  stood  in  the  barn  door 
with  a  pan  in  one  hand  and  a  bucket  in  the 
other. 

"No,  oh,  no,"  answered  Uncle  Tucker  with 
a  laugh.  "I  was  jest  remarking  how  the  Al- 
mighty had  the  lasso  of  His  love  around  the 
neck  of  all  the  wild  young  asses  a-galloping 
over  the  world  and  would  throw  'em  in  His 
own  time.  Well,  I  hear  you're  a-going  to  get 
a  sochul  baptism  into  Sweetbriar  along  about 
a  hour  before  sundown.  Better  part  your  hair 
in  the  middle  and  get  some  taller  for  your 
shoes." 

"I  will,  most  assuredly,  if  that's  what's  ex- 
pected of  me  for  the  ceremony,"  answered 
Everett  with  a  delightful  laugh.  "Here's  a  pan 
of  delicacies  for  the  hens,  and  this  bucket  is 
for  you  to  bring  some  shelled  corn  for  Miss 
Rose  Mary  to  parch  for  them,  when  you  come 
to  the  house." 

"I'm  not  a-counting  on  going  any  time 
soon,"  answered  Uncle  Tucker  with  a  shrewd 
38 


THE    FOLKS-GARDEN" 

glance  up  at  Everett  as  he  came  and  stood  in 
the  doorway  beside  the  tall  young  man,  who 
lounged  against  one  of  the  door  posts.  Uncle 
Tucker  was  himself  tall,  but  slightly  bent,  lean 
and  brown,  with  great,  gray,  mystic  eyes  that 
peered  out  from  under  bushy  white  brows. 
Long  gray  locks  curled  around  his  ears  and  a 
rampant  forelock  stood  up  defiantly  upon  his 
wide,  high  brow.  At  all  times  his  firm  old 
mouth  was  on  the  eve  of  breaking  into  a  quizzi- 
cal smile,  and  he  bestowed  one  upon  Everett 
as  he  remarked  further : 

"The  barn  is  man's  instituted  refuge  in  the 
time  of  mop  and  broom  cyclones  in  the  house. 
I  reckon  you  can't  get  on  to  your  rock-picking 
in  the  fields  now,  but  you  really  hadn't  oughter 
dig  up  an  oil-well  to-day  anyway;  it  might 
kinder  overshadow  the  excitement  of  the 
party." 

"Mr.  Alloway,  has  any  other  survey  of  this 
river  bend  been  made  before?"  asked  Everett 
as  he  looked  keenly  at  Uncle  Tucker,  while  he 
39 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

lit  his  cigar  from  the  cob  pipe  the  old  gentle- 
man accommodatingly  handed  him. 

"Well,  yes,  there  was  a  young  fellow  came 
poking  around  here  not  so  long  ago  with  a 
little  hammer  pecking  at  the  rocks.  I  didn't 
pay  much  attention  to  him,  though.  He  never 
stayed  but  one  day,  and  I  was  a-cutting  clover 
hay,  and  too  busy  to  notice  him  much  'cept  to 
ask  him  in  to  dinner.  He  couldn't  seem  to 
manage  his  chicken  dumplings  for  feeding  his 
eyes  with  Rose  Mary,  and  he  didn't  have  time 
to  give  up  much  information  about  sech  little 
things  as  oil-wells  and  phosphate  beds.  You 
know,  they  has  to  be  a  good  touch  of  frost 
over  a  man's  ears  before  he  can  tend  to  busi- 
ness, with  good-looking  dimity  passing  around 
him."  And  Uncle  Tucker  laughed  as  he  re- 
sumed the  puffing  of  his  pipe. 

"And  after  the  frost  they  are  not  at  all  im- 
mune— to  such  dimity,"  answered  Everett  with 
an  echo  of  Uncle  Tucker's  laugh,  as  a  slight 
color  rose  up  under  the  tan  of  his  thin  face. 
40 


THE   FOLKS-GARDEN 

As  he  spoke  he  ruffled  his  own  dark  red  mop 
of  hair,  which  was  slightly  sprinkled  with 
gray,  over  his  temples.  Everett  was  tall, 
broad  and  muscular,  but  thin  almost  to  gaunt- 
ness,  and  his  face  habitually  wore  the  expres- 
sion of  deep  weariness.  His  eyes  were  red- 
brown  and  disillusioned,  except  when  they 
joined  with  his  well-cut  mouth  in  a  smile  that 
brought  an  almost  boyish  beauty  back  over 
his  whole  expression.  There  was  decided 
youth  in  the  glance  he  bestowed  upon  Uncle 
Tucker,  whose  attention  was  riveted  on  the 
manceuvers  of  the  General  and  Tobe,  who  were 
busy  with  a  pair  of  old  kitchen  knives  in  an 
attack  upon  the  grass  growing  between  the 
cracks  of  the  front  walk. 

"So  you  have  had  no  report  as  to  what  that 
survey  was?"  Everett  asked  Uncle  Tucker, 
again  bringing  him  back  to  the  subject  in 
hand.  "Do  you  know  who  sent  the  man  you 
speak  of  to  prospect  on  your  land  ?" 

"Never    thought    to    ask    him,"    answered 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

Uncle  Tucker,  still  with  the  utmost  unconcern. 
"Maybe  Rose  Mary  knows.  Women  gener- 
ally carry  a  reticule  around  with  'em  jest  to 
poke  facts  into  that  they  gather  together  from 
nothing  put  pure  wantin'-to-know.  Ask  her." 

And  as  he  spoke  Uncle  Tucker  began  to 
busy  himself  getting  out  the  grease  cans,  with 
the  evident  intention  of  putting  in  a  morning 
lubricating  the  farm  implements  in  general. 

"Your  friend,  Mr.  Gidfeon  Newsome,  said 
something  about  a  rumor  of  paying  phosphate 
here  in  the  Harpeth  bend  when  I  met  him  over 
in  Boliver  before  I  came  to  Sweetbriar.  In 
fact,  I  had  tried  to  come  to  look  over  the  fields 
just  to  kill  time  when  I  nearly  killed  myself 
and  fell  down  upon  you.  Do  you  suppose  he 
could  have  sent  the  prospector?"  Again  Ev- 
erett brought  Uncle  Tucker  back  to  the  unin- 
teresting topic  of  what  might  lay  under  the 
fields,  the  top  of  which  he  was  so  interested  in 
cultivating. 

"Oh,  I  reckon  not,"  answered  Uncle 
42 


THE   FOLKS-GARDEN 

Tucker,  puffing  away  as  he  laid  out  his  mon- 
key-wrenches. "The  Honorable  Gid  is  up  to 
his  neck  in  this  here  no-dram  wave  what  is 
a-sweeping  around  over  the  state  and  pretty 
nigh  rising  up  as  high  as  the  necks  of  even 
private  liquor  bottles.  Gid's  not  to  say  a 
teetotaler,  but  he  had  to  climb  into  the  band- 
wagon skiff  or  sink  outen  sight.  He's  got  to 
tie  down  his  seat  in  the  state  house  with  a 
white  ribbon,  and  he's  got  no  mind  for  fooling 
with  phosphate  dirt.  He's  a  mighty  fine  man, 
and  all  of  Sweetbriar  thinks  a  heap  of  him. 
Do  you  want  to  help  me  lift  this  wagon  wheel 
on  to  this  jack,  so  I  can  sorter  grease  her  up 
against  the  next  time  I  use  her  ?" 

"Say,  Uncle  Tuck,  Aunt  Viney  says  for 
you  to  come  right  there  now  and  bring  Mr. 
Mark  and  a  spade  and  a  long  string  with  you,'* 
came  just  at  the  critical  moment  of  bal- 
ancing the  notched  plank  under  the  revolving 
wagon  wheel,  in  Stonewall  Jackson's  young 
voice,  which  held  in  it  quite  a  trace  of  Miss 
43 


ROSE   OF   OLD   HARPETH 

Lavinia's  decisive  tone  of  command.  Stonie 
stood  in  the  barn  door,  poised  for  instant  re- 
turn along  the  path  of  duty  to  the  front  walk, 
only  waiting  to  be  sure  his  summons  would 
be  obeyed.  Stonie  was  sturdy,  freckled,  and 
in  possession  of  Uncle  Tucker's  big  gray  eyes, 
Rose  Mary's  curled  mouth  and  more  than  a 
tinge  of  Aunt  Viney's  austerity  of  manner. 

"Better  come  on,"  he  further  admonished. 
"Rose  Mary  can't  hold  that  vine  up  much 
longer,  and  if  she  lets  go  they'll  all  fall  down." 
And  as  he  raced  up  the  path  Everett  followed 
almost  as  rapidly,  urged  on  by  the  vision  of 
Rose  Mary  drooping  under  some  sort  of  un- 
supportable  burden.  Uncle  Tucker  brought 
up  the  rear  with  the  spade  and  a  long  piece  of 
twine. 

"Oh,  I  thought  you  would  never  come," 
laughed  Rose  Mary  from  half  way  up  the  step- 
ladder  as  she  lowered  herself  and  a  great 
bunch  of  budding  honeysuckle  down  into  Ev- 
erett's upstretched  arms.  "I  held  it  up  as  long 
44 


"That's  what  comes  from  letting  that  shoot  run  catawumpa; 


THE   FOLKS-GARDEN 

as  I  could,  but  I  almost  let  it  tear  the  whole 
vine  down." 

"That's  what  comes  from  letting  that  shoot 
run  catawumpas  three  years  ago.  I  told  you 
about  it  at  the  time,  Tucker,  said  Miss  La- 
vinia  with  a  stern  glance  at  Uncle  Tucker, 
who  stood  with  spade  and  twine  at  the  corner 
of  the  porch. 

Miss  Lavinia  sat  in  a  large,  calico-cushioned 
rocking-chair  at  the  end  of  the  porch,  and  had 
been  issuing  orders  to  Rose  Mary  and  little 
Miss  Amanda  about  the  readjustment  of  the 
fragrant  vine  that  trailed  across  the  end  of 
the  porch  over  her  window  and  on  out  to  a 
trellis  in  the  side  yard.  Her  high  mob  cap  sat 
on  her  head  in  an  angle  of  aggression  always, 
and  her  keen  black  eyes  enforced  all  commands 
issuing  from  her  stern  old  mouth. 

"Now,  Amandy,  train  that  shoot  straight 
while  you're  about  it,"  she  continued.  "It 
comes  plumb  from  the  roots,  and  I  don't  want 
to  have  to  look  at  a  wild-growing  vine  right 

45 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

here  under  my  window  for  all  my  eighty- 
second  and  maybe  last  year." 

"I've  gone  and  misplaced  my  glasses  and  I 
can't  hardly  see,"  answered  Miss  Amanda  in 
her  sweet  little  quaver  that  sounded  like  a  sil- 
ver bell  with  a  crack  in  it.  "Lend  me  your'n, 
Tucker!" 

"You  are  a-going  to  misplace  your  eyes 
some  day,  Sister  Amandy.  Then  you'll  be 
a-wanting  mine,  and  I'll  have  to  cut  'em  out 
and  give  'em  to  you,  I  suppose,"  said  Uncle 
Tucker  as  he  handed  over  his  huge,  steel- 
rimmed  glasses. 

"The  Bible  says  'an  eye  for  an  eye  and  a 
tooth  for  a  tooth,'  Tucker,  but  not  in  a  borrow- 
ing sense  of  the  word,  as  I  remember,"  re- 
marked Miss  Lavinia  in  a  meditative  tone  of 
voice.  "And  that  would  be  the  thing  about 
my  getting  the  new  teeth.  Don't  either  of  you 
need  'em,  and  it  would  be  selfish  of  me  to  spend 
on  something  they  couldn't  anybody  borrow 
from  me.  Amandy,  dig  a  little  deeper  around 
46 


THE    FOLKS-GARDEN 

that  shoot,  I  don't  want  no  puny  vine  under  my 
window !" 

"I'm  a-trying,  Sister  Viney,"  answered  Miss 
Amanda  propitiatingly.  "I've  been  a-bend- 
ing  over  so  long  my  knees  are  in  a  kinder 
tremble." 

"Let  me  finish  digging  and  put  in  the  new 
dirt  for  you,  Aunt  Amandy,"  begged  Rose 
Mary,  who  had  given  the  armful  of  vine  to 
Everett  to  hold  while  Uncle  Tucker  tied  the 
strings  in  the  exact  angle  indicated  by  Miss  La- 
vinia.  "I  can  do  it  in  no  time." 

"No,  child,  I  reckon  I'd  better  do  it  myself," 
answered  Miss  Amanda  as  she  sat  back  on  the 
grass  for  a  moment's  rest.  "I  have  dug 
around  and  trained  this  vine  the  last  week  in 
April  for  almost  sixty  years  now.  Mr.  Lovell 
brought  it  by  to  Ma  one  spring  as  he  hauled 
his  summer  groceries  over  the  Ridge  to  War- 
ren County.  By  such  care  it's  never  died  clown 
yet,  and  I  have  made  it  my  custom  to  give 
sprouts  away  to  all  that  would  take  'em.  I'm 
47 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

not  a-doubting  that  there  is  some  of  this  vine 
a-budding  out  all  over  Harpeth  Valley  from 
Providence  Nob  to  the  River  bend." 

"No,  Amandy,"  interrupted  Aunt  Viney, 
"it  wasn't  sixty  years  ago,  it  was  jest  fifty- 
seven.  Mr.  Lovell  brought  the  switch  of  it 
with  him  the  first  year  Mr.  Roberts  rode  this 
circuit,  and  he  was  a-holding  that  big  revival 
over  to  Providence  Chapel.  Mr.  Lovell  came 
into  the  fold  with  that  very  first  night's  preach- 
ing, and  we  all  were  rejoiced.  Don't  you  re- 
member he  brought  you  that  Maiden  Blush 
rose-bush  over  there  at  the  same  time  he 
brought  this  vine  to  Ma?  And  one  bloom 
came  out  on  the  rose  the  next  year  jest  in  time 
to  put  it  in  his  cofHn  before  we  buried  him 
when  he  was  taken  down  with  the  fever  on  the 
Road  and  died  here  with  us.  Fifty-six  years 
ago  come  June,  and  him  so  young  to  die  while 
so  full  of  the  spirit  of  the  Lord !" 

Feebly  Miss  Amanda  rose  to  her  knees  and 
went  on  with  the  digging  around  the  roots  of 
48 


THE    FOLKS-GARDEN 

the  vine,  but  Rose  Mary  knelt  beside  her  and 
laid  her  strong,  young  arm  around  the  bent 
and  shaking  little  shoulders.  Uncle  Tucker 
rested  on  his  spade  and  looked  away  across 
the  garden  wall,  where  the  little  yard  of  graves 
was  hid  in  the  shadow  of  tall  pine  trees,  and 
his  big  eyes  grew  very  tender.  Miss  Lavinia 
fingered  a  shoot  of  the  vine  that  had  fallen 
across  her  thin  old  knees  with  a  softened  ex- 
pression in  her  prophet-woman  face,  while 
something  new  and  sweet  stirred  in  Everett's 
breast  and  woke  in  his  tired  eyes,  as  across 
half  a  century  was  wafted  the  perfume  of  a 
shattered  romance. 

And  then  by  the  time  the  vine  had  been 
trained  Miss  Lavinia  had  thought  of  a  number 
of  other  spring  jobs  that  must  be  attended  to 
along  the  front  walk  and  around  all  the  clumps 
of  budding  shrubs,  so  with  one  desperate 
glance  toward  the  barn,  his  deserted  haven, 
Uncle  Tucker  fell  to  with  his  spade,  while 
Everett  obtained  a  fork  from  the  tool  house  and 
49 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

put  himself  under  command.  Rose  Mary  was 
sharply  recalled  and  sent  into  the  house  to 
complete  the  arrangements  for  the  festivities, 
when  she  had  followed  the  forker  down  by 
the  lilac  hedge,  rake  in  hand,  with  evident  in- 
tention of  being  of  great  assistance  in  the  gar- 
dening of  the  amateur. 

"Pull  the  dirt  up  closter  around  those  bleed- 
ing-hearts, Tucker,"  commanded  Miss  La- 
vinia  from  her  rocker.  "They  are  Rose 
Mary's  I  planted  the  identical  day  she  was 
born,  and  I  don't  want  anything  to  happen 
to  'em  in  the  way  of  cutworms  or  such  this 
summer." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  answered  Uncle 
Tucker  with  a  little  chuckle  in  Everett's  direc- 
tion, who  was  turning  over  the  dirt  near  a  rose- 
bush in  his  close  vicinity,  "it  don't  do  to  pay 
too  much  attention  to  women's  bleeding- 
hearts;  let  alone,  they'll  tie  'em  up  in  their 
own  courage  and  go  on  dusting  around  the 
place,  while  if  you  notice  'em  too  much  they 
50 


THE    FOLKS-GARDEN 

take  to  squeezing  out  more  bleed  drops  for 
your  sympathy.  Now,  I  think  it's  best — " 

"Mister  Tucker,  say,  Mister  Tucker,"  came 
in  a  giggle  from  over  the  front  gate  as  Jennie 
Rucker's  little  freckled  nose  appeared  just 
above  the  top  plank,  only  slightly  in  advance 
of  that  of  small  Peggy's.  "Mis'  Poteet's  got 
a  new  baby,  just  earned,  and  she  says  she  is 
sorry  she  can't  come  to  Mis'  Viney's  party; 
but  she  can't." 

"Now,  fly-away,  ain't  that  too  bad!"  ex- 
claimed Uncle  Tucker.  "That  baby  oughter 
be  sent  back  until  it  has  got  manners  to  wait 
until  it's  wanted.  Didn't  neither  one  of  you 
all  get  here  on  anybody's  birthday  but  your 
own."  Uncle  Tucker's  sally  was  greeted  by  a 
duet  of  giggles,  and  the  announcement  com- 
mittee hurried  on  across  the  street  with  its 
news, 

"Tucker,  you  Tucker,  don't  you  touch  that 
snowball  bush  with  the  spade!"  came  in  a 
fresh  and  alarmed  command  from  the  rocker 
51 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

post  of  observation.  "You  know  Ma  didn't 
ever  let  that  bush  be  touched  after  it  had 
budded.  You  spaded  around  it  onct  when 
you  was  young  and  upty  and  you  remember  it 
didn't  bloom." 

"Muster  been  a  hundred  years  ago  if  I  was 
ever  upty  about  this  here  flower  job,"  he  an- 
swered in  an  undertone  to  Everett  as  he  turned 
his  attention  to  the  rose-bushes  at  which  his 
apprentice  had  been  pegging  away.  "At  wed- 
dings and  bornings  and  flower  tending  man  is 
just  a  worm  under  woman's  feet  and  he  might 
as  well  not  even  hope  to  turn.  All  he  can  do  is 
to—" 

But  it  was  just  at  this  juncture  when  Uncle 
Tucker's  patience  was  about  to  be  exhausted, 
that  a  summons  from  Rose  Mary  came  for  a 
general  getting  ready  for  the  birthday  cele- 
bration. 

And  in  a  very  few  hours  the  festivities  were 
in  full  swing.  Miss  Lavinia  sat  in  state  in  her 
rocker  and  received  the  offerings  and  congrat- 
52 


THE   FOLKS-GARDEN 

ulations  of  Sweetbriar  as  they  were  presented 
in  various  original  and  characteristic  forms. 
Young  Peter  Rucker,  still  a  bit  unsteady  on 
his  pink  and  chubby  underpinning,  was  steered 
forward  to  present  his  glossy  buckeye,  hung 
on  a  plaited  horse-hair  string  that  had  been 
constructed  by  small  Jennie  with  long  and  infi- 
nite patience.  Miss  Lavinia's  commendations 
threw  both  donor  and  constructor  into  an 
agony  of  bashfulness  from  which  Pete  took 
refuge  in  Rose  Mary's  skirts  and  Jennie  be- 
hind her  mother's  chair.  But  at  this  juncture 
the  arrival  on  the  scene  of  action  of  young 
Bob  Nickols  with  a  whole  two-horse  wagon- 
load  of  pine  cones,  which  the  old  lady  doted 
on  for  the  freshing  up  of  the  tiny  fires  always 
kept  smoldering  in  her  andironed  fireplace  the 
summer  through,  distracted  the  attention  of 
the  company  and  was  greeted  with  great  ap- 
plause. Bob  had  been  from  early  morning 
over  on  Providence  Nob  collecting  the  treas- 
ures, and,  seated  beside  him  on  the  front  of  the 

53 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

wagon,  was  Louisa  Helen  Plunkett,  blushing 
furiously  and  most  obviously  avoiding  her 
mother's  stern  eye  of  inquiry  as  to  where  she 
had  spent  the  valuable  morning  hours. 

The  sensation  of  young  Bob's  offering  was 
only  offset  at  the  unpacking  of  the  complacent 
Mr.  Crabtree's  gift,  which  he  bore  over  from 
the  store  in  his  own  arms.  With  dramatic  ef- 
fect he  placed  it  on  the  floor  at  Miss  Lavinia's 
feet  and  called  for  a  hatchet  for  its  opening. 
And  as  from  their  wrappings  of  paper  and  ex- 
celsior he  drew  two  large  gilt  and  glass  bottles, 
one  containing  bay  rum  and  the  other  cam- 
phor, that  precious  lotion  for  fast  stiffening 
joints,  little  Miss  Amanda  heaved  a  sigh  of 
positive  rapture.  Mr.  Crabtree  was  small  and 
wiry,  with  a  hickory-nut  countenance  and  a 
luscious  peach  of  a  heart,  and,  though  of 
bachelor  condition,  he  at  all  times  displayed 
sympathetic  and  intuitive  domestic  inclina- 
tions. He  kept  the  Sweetbriar  store  and  was 
thus  in  position  to  know  of  the  small  economies 
54 


THE    FOLKS-GARDEN 

practised  by  the  two  old  ladies  in  the  matter 
of  personal  necessities.  For  the  months  past 
they  had  not  bought  the  quantity  of  lubricating 
remedies  that  he  considered  sufficient  and  this 
had  been  his  tactful  way  of  supplying  enough 
to  last  for  some  time  to  come.  And  from  over 
the  pile  of  gifts  heaped  around  her,  Miss  La- 
vinia  beamed  upon  him  to  such  an  extent  that 
he  felt  like  following  young  Pete's  example, 
committing  the  awful  impropriety  of  hiding 
his  embarrassment  in  any  petticoat  handy,  but 
just  at  this  juncture  up  the  front  walk  came  the 
birthday  cake  navigating  itself  by  the  long  legs 
of  Mr.  Caleb  Rucker  and  attended  by  a  riot  of 
Sweetbriar  youth,  mad  with  excitement  over 
its  safe  landing  and  the  treat  in  prospect.  In 
its  wake  followed  Mrs.  Rucker,  complacent  and 
beaming  over  the  sensation  caused  by  this  her 
high  triumph  in  the  culinary  line. 

"Fly-away,    if   that's   not   Providence   Nob 
gone  and  turned  to  a  cake  for  Sister  Viney's 
birthday,"  exclaimed  Uncle  Tucker,  as  amid 
55 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

generous  applause  the  offering  was  landed  on 
a  table  set  near  the  rocker. 

And  again  at  this  auspicious  moment  a  huge 
waiter  covered  with  little  mountains  of  white 
ice-cream  made  its  appearance  through  the 
front  door,  impelled  by  the  motive  power 
of  Mr.  Mark  Everett's  elegantly  white-flannel- 
trousered  legs,  and  guided  to  a  landing  beside 
the  cake  by  Rose  Mary,  who  was  a  pink  flower 
of  smiles  and  blushes. 

Then  it  followed  that  in  less  time  than  one 
would  think  possible  the  company  at  large  was 
busy  with  a  spoon  attached  to  the  refresh- 
ments which  to  Sweetbriar  represented  the 
height  of  elegance.  Out  in  the  world  beyond 
Old  Harpeth  ice-cream  and  cake  may  have  lost 
caste  as  a  fashionable  afternoon  refreshment, 
having  been  succeeded  by  the  imported  custom 
of  tea  and  scones  or  an  elaborate  menu  of  re- 
ception indigestibles,  but  in  the  Valley  nothing 
had  ever  threatened  the  supremacy  of  the  fro- 
zen cream  and  white-frosted  confection.  The 
56 


THE    FOLKS-GARDEN 

men  all  sat  on  the  end  of  the  long  porch  and 
accepted  second  saucers  and  slices  and  even 
when  urged  by  Rose  Mary,  beaming  with  hos- 
pitality, third  relays,  while  the  Swarm  in  camp 
on  the  front  steps,  under  the  General's  manage- 
ment, seconded  by  Everett,  succeeded  in  obtain- 
ing supplies  in  a  practically  unlimited  quantity. 

"Looks  like  Miss  Rose  Mary's  freezer  ain't 
got  no  bottom  at  all,"  said  Mr.  Rucker  in  his 
long  drawl  as  he  began  on  a  fourth  white 
mound.  "It  reminds  me  of  'the  snow,  the 
snow  what  falls  from  Heaven  to  earth  below/ 
and  keeps  a-falling."  Mr.  Rucker  was  a  poet 
at  heart  and  a  husband  to  Mrs.  Rucker  by  pro- 
fession, and  his  flights  were  regarded  by  Sweet- 
briar  at  large  with  a  mixture  of  pride  and  de- 
rision. 

"Cal,"  said  Mrs.  Rucker  sternly,  "don't  you 
eat  more'n  half  that  saucer.  I've  got  no  mind 
to  top  off  this  here  good  time  with  mustard 
plasters  all  around.  Even  rejoicings  can  get 
overfed  and  peter  out  into  ginger  tea.  Jennie, 
57 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

you  and  Sammie  and  Pete  stop  eating  right 
now.  Lands  alive,  the  sun  has  set  and  we  all 
know  Miss  Viney  oughter  be  in  the  house. 
Shoo,  everybody  go  home  to  save  your  man- 
ners!" And  with  hearty  laughs  and  further 
good-by  congratulations  the  happy  little  com- 
pany of  farmer  folk  scattered  to  their  own 
roof  trees  across  and  along  Providence  Road. 
The  twilight  had  come,  but  a  very  young 
moon  was  casting  soft  shadows  from  the  trees 
rustling  in  the  night  breezes  and  the  stars  were 
lighting  up  in  competition  to  the  rays  that  shot 
out  from  window  after  window  in  the  little 
village. 

Uncle  Tucker  had  hurried  away  to  his  be- 
lated barn  duties  and  little  Miss  Amanda  into 
the  house  to  stir  up  Miss  Lavinia's  fire  in 
preparation  for  their  retirement,  which  was  a 
ceremony  of  long  duration  and  begun  with  the 
mounting  of  the  chickens  to  their  roosts.  Miss 
Lavinia  sat  with  her  hands  folded  in  her  lap 
over  a  collection  of  the  smaller  gifts  of  the 

58 


THE    FOLKS-GARDEN 

afternoon  and  her  eyes  looked  far  away  cross 
the  Ridge,  dim  in  the  failing  light,  while  her 
stern  old  face  took  on  softened  and  very  lovely 
lines.  Rose  Mary  stood  near  to  help  her  into 
the  house  and  Everett  leaned  against  a  post 
close  on  the  other  side  of  the  rocker. 

"Children,"  she  said  with  a  little  break  in 
her  usual  austere  voice,  "I'm  kinder  ashamed 
of  accusing  the  Lord  of  forgetting  me  this 
morning  when  I  look  at  all  these  remembers 
of  me  here  that  my  neighbors  have  given  me. 
I  found  friends  when  I  came  here  eighty-two 
years  ago  to-day  and  as  they  have  died  off  He 
has  raised  up  a  new  crop  outen  their  seed  for 
me.  This  rheumatism  buckeye  here  is  the 
present  of  the  great  grandson  of  my  first  beau, 
and  this  afternoon  I  have  looked  into  the  kind 
eyes  of  some  of  my  friends  dead  and  gone 
many  a  day,  and  have  seen  smiles  come  to  life 
that  have  been  buried  fifty  years.  I'm  a-feel- 
ing  thankful  to  be  here  another  summer  to  see 
my  friends  and  flowers  a-blooming  onct  more, 

59 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

and  come  next  April  I  am  a-going  to  want  just 
such  another  infair  as  this  one.  Now  help  me 
into  bed!  Young  man,  you  can  lift  me  up 
some,  I'm  stiff  with  so  long  setting,  and  I'm 
a-going  to  want  a  power  of  rubbing  this  night, 
Rose  Mary." 

So,  thus  held  by  her  duties  of  ministration, 
it  was  quite  an  hour  later  that  Rose  Mary  came 
out  of  the  house,  which  was  dark  and  sleep- 
quiet,  and  found  Everett  still  sitting  on  the 
front  steps  smoking  and — waiting. 

"Tired?"  he  asked  as  she  sank  down  on  to 
the  step  beside  him  and  leaned  her  dark  head 
back  against  one  of  the  posts  that  supported 
the  mass  of  honeysuckle  vine. 

"Not  much — and  a  heap  happy,"  she  an- 
swered, looking  up  at  him  with  reflected  stars 
in  her  long-lashed  blue  eyes.  "Wasn't  it  a 
lovely  party?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Everett  slowly  as  he 
watched  the  smoke  curl  up  from  his  cigar  and 
blow  in  the  soft  little  night  wind  across  toward 
60 


THE    FOLKS-GARDEN 

Rose  Mary ;  "yes>  it  was  a  nice  party.  I  seri- 
ously doubt  if  anywhere  on  any  of  the  known 
continents  there  could  hare  been  one  just  like 
it  pulled  off  by  any  people  of  any  nation.  It 
was  unique — in  sentiment  and  execution;  I'm 
duly  grateful  for  having  been  a  guest — even 
part  honoree." 

"I  always  think  of  old  people  as  being  the 
soft  shadows  that  sturdy  little  children  cast  on 
the  wall.  They  are  a  part  of  the  day  and  sun- 
shine, but  just  protected  by  the  young  folks 
that  come  between  them  and  the  direct  rays. 
They  are  strangely  like  flowers,  too,  with  their 
quaint  fragrance.  Aunt  Viney  is  my  tall  pur- 
ple flag,  but  Aunt  Amandy  is  my  bed  of  white 
cinnamon  pinks.  I — I  want  to  keep  them  in 
bloom  for  always.  I  can't  let  myself  think — 
that  I  can't."  Rose  Mary's  voice  trembled 
into  a  laugh  as  she  caught  a  trailing  wisp  of 
honeysuckle  and  pressed  a  bunch  of  its  buds 
to  her  lips. 

"You'll  keep  them,  Rose  Mary.  You  could 
61 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

keep  anything  you — you  really  wanted,"  said 
Everett  in  a  guardedly  comforting  voice. 
"And  what  are  Mr.  Alloway  and  Stonie  in 
your  flower  garden  ?"  he  asked  in  a  bantering 
tone. 

"Oh,  Uncle  Tucker  is  the  briar  rcse  hedge 
all  around  the  place,  and  Stonie  is  all  the 
young  shoots  that  I'm  trying  to  prune  and 
train  up  just  like  him,"  answered  Rose  Mary 
with  a  quick  laugh.  "You're  my  new-fash- 
ioned crimson-rambler  from  out  over  the 
Ridge  that  I'm  trying  to  make  grow  in  my  gar- 
den," she  added,  with  a  little  hint  of  both 
audacity  and  tenderness  in  her  voice. 

"I'm  rooted  all  right,"  answered  Everett 
quickly,  as  he  blew  a  puff  of  smoke  at  her. 
"And  you,  Rose  Mary,  are  the  bloom  of  even- 
rose-bush  that  I  ever  saw  anywhere.  You  are, 
I  verily  believe,  the  only  and  original  Rose  of 
the  World." 

"Oh,  no,"  answered  Rose  Mary  lifting  her 
long  lashes  for  a  second's  glance  at  him ;  "I'm 
62 


THE  FOLKS-GARDEN 

just  the  Rose  of  these  Briars.  Don't  you  know 
all  over  the  world  women  are  blooming  on 
lovely  tall  stems,  where  they  have  planted 
themselves  deep  in  home  places  and  are  drink- 
ing the  Master's  love  and  courage  from  both 
sun  and  rain.  But  if  we  don't  go  to  rest  some 
you'll  wilt,  Rambler,  and  I'll  shatter.  Be  sure 
and  take  the  glass  of  cream  I  put  by  your  bed. 
Good  night  and  good  dreams !" 


CHAPTER  III 

AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

"TT  TELL,  Rose  Mary,"  said  Uncle  Tucker 
V  V  as  he  appeared  in  the  doorway  of  the 
milk-house  and  framed  himself  against  an  en- 
trancing, mist-wreathed,  sun-up  aspect  of 
Sweetbriar  with  a  stretch  of  Providence  Road 
winding  away  to  the  Nob  and  bending  caress- 
ingly around  red-roofed  Providence  as  it 
passed  over  the  Ridge,  "there  are  forty-seven 
new  babies  out  in  the  barn  for  you  this  morn- 
ing. Better  come  on  over  and  see  'em!" 
Uncle  Tucker's  big  eyes  were  bright  with  ex- 
citement, his  gray  lavender  muffler,  which  al- 
ways formed  a  part  of  his  early  morning  cos- 
tume, flew  at  loose  ends,  and  a  rampant,  grizzly 
lock  stuck  out  through  the  slit  in  the  old  gray 


64 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

"Gracious  me,  Uncle  Tuck,  who  now?"  de- 
manded Rose  Mary  over  a  crock  ef  milk  she 
was  expertly  skimming  with  a  thin,  old,  silver 
ladle. 

"Old  White  has  hatched  out  a  brood  of  six- 
teen, assorted  black  and  white,  that  foolish 
bronze  turkey  hen  just  come  out  from  under 
the  woodpile  with  thirteen  little  pesters,  Snif- 
fer has  got  five  pups — three  spots  and  two 
solids — and  Mrs.  Butter  has  twin  calves,  as- 
sorted sex  this  time.  They  are  spry  and  hungry 
and  you'd  better  come  on  over !" 

"Lovely,"  laughed  Rose  Mary  with  the  de- 
light in  her  blue  eyes  matching  that  in  Uncle 
Tucker's  pair  of  mystic  gray.  "I'll  come  just 
as  soon  as  I  get  the  skimming  done.  We'll 
want  some  corn  meal  and  millet  seed  for  the 
chirp-babies,  but  the  others  we  can  leave  to  the 
maternal  ministrations.  I'm  so  full  of  wel- 
come I  don't  see  how  I'm  going  to  keep  it  from 
bubbling  over." 

"That's  jest  like  you,  Rose  Mary,  a-welcom- 

65 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

ing  a  whole  passel  of  pesters  that  have  deluged 
down  on  you  at  one  time,"  said  Uncle  Tucker 
with  a  dubiously  appreciative  smile  at  Rose 
Mary's  hospitable  enthusiasm.  "Looks  to  me 
like  a  girl  tending  three  old  folks,  one  rampage 
of  a  boy,  a  mollycuddle  of  a  strange  man,  and 
a  whole  petting  spoiled  village  has  got  enough 
on  her  shoulders  without  this  four-foot,  two- 
foot  landslide." 

"But  it's  in  my  heart  I  carry  you  all,  old 
Sweetie,"  answered  Rose  Mary  with  a  flirt  of 
her  long  lashes  up  at  Uncle  Tucker.  "A  wom- 
an can  carry  things  as  a  blessing  in  her  heart 
that  might  be  an  awful  burden  on  her  shoul- 
ders. Don't  you  know  I  don't  allow  you  out 
before  the  sun  is  up  good  without  your  muf- 
fler tied  up  tight?  There;  please  go  on  back 
to  the  barn  and  take  this  crock  of  skimmed 
milk  to  Mrs.  Sniffie — wait,  I'll  pour  back  some 
of  the  cream!  And  in  just  a  few  minutes  I'll 
be  ready  to — " 

"Rose  Mary,  Rose  Mary,"  came  a  wild, 
66 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

enthusiastic  shout  from  up  the  path  toward 
the  Briars  and  in  a  moment  the  General  ap- 
peared around  the  row  of  lilac  bushes  through 
which  the  milk-house  trail  led  down  under  the 
hill  to  Rose  Mary's  sanctum  of  the  golden 
treasure.  Stonie  had  taken  time  before  leav- 
ing the  seclusion  of  his  apartment  to  plunge 
into  his  short  blue  jeans  trousers,  but  he  was 
holding  them  up  with  one  hand  and  struggling 
with  his  gingham  shirt,  the  tail  of  which  bel- 
lowed out  like  a  sail  in  the  morning  breeze  as 
he  sped  along.  And  in  his  wake  came  Tobe 
with  a  pan  in  one  hand  and  a  cup  in  the  other. 
"It's  two  calves,  Tobe  says,  with  just  Mrs. 
Butter  for  the  mother  and  Sniffle  beat  her 
with  three  more  puppies  than  two  calves.  It's 
sixteen  chickens  and  a  passel  of  turkeys  and 
we  waked  up  Mr.  Mark  to  tell  him  and  he 
said — "  Stonie  paused  in  the  rapid  fire  of  his 
announcement  of  the  morning  news  and  then 
added  in  judicial  tone  of  voice,  as  if  giving 
the  aroused  sleeper  his  modicum  of  fair  play: 
67 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

"Well,  he  didn't  quite  say  it  before  he  swal- 
lowed, but  he  throwed  a  pillow  at  Tobe  and 
pulled  the  sheet  over  his  head  and  groaned 
awful.  Aunt  Viney  was  saying  her  prayers 
when  I  went  to  tell  her,  and  Aunt  Mandy  was 
taking  down  her  frizzles,  but  she  stopped  and 
gave  Tobe  some  corn-bread  for  the  chickens 
and  some  pot-licker  with  meat  in  it  for  Sniffle. 
Can't  you  come  with  me  to  see  'em  now,  Rose 
Mary?  It  won't  be  any  fun  until  you  see 
em!"  The  General  had  by  this  time  lined  up 
in  the  doorway  with  Uncle  Tucker,  and  Tobe's 
black  head  and  keen  face  peered  over  his 
shoulder.  The  expression  in  all  three  pairs  of 
eyes  fixed  on  hers  was  the  same — the  wild  de- 
sire to  make  her  presentation  at  the  interesting 
court  Dame  Nature  was  holding  in  the  barn. 
A  most  natural  masculine  instinct  for  feminine 
interpretive  companionship  when  face  to  face 
with  the  miracle  of  maternity. 

"Just  one  more  crock  of  milk  to  skim  and  I 
can  go,"  answered  Rose  Mary  as  she  poised 
68 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

the  skimmer  over  the  last  yellow  surface  down 
the  line  of  huge,  brown,  earthen  bowls  that  in 
Harpeth  Valley  were  known  as  crocks.  The 
milk-house  was  cool  and  clean  and  smelled  of 
the  fresh  cream  lifted  from  the  milk  into  the 
stone  jars  to  be  clabbered  for  the  to-morrow 
churning.  And  Rose  Mary  herself  was  a  fresh, 
fragrant  incarnation  of  the  spirit  of  a  spring 
sun-dawn  that  had  come  over  the  Ridge  from 
Old  Harpeth.  Her  merry  voice  floated  out 
over  the  hillside  as  she  followed  in  the  wake 
of  Uncle  Tucker,  Stonie  and  Tobe,  with  the 
provender  for  the  new  arrivals,  and  it  made  its 
way  as  a  faint  echo  of  a  dream  through  one  of 
the  vine-covered,  gable  windows  of  the  Briars 
and  the  effect  thereof  was  well-nigh  instanta- 
neous. 

Everett,  after  a  hasty  and  almost  as  incom- 
plete toilet  as  the  one  made  by  the  General  in 
his  excitement,  arrived  on  the  scene  of  action 
just  in  time  to  witness  the  congratulatory  in- 
terview between  Mrs.  Sniffie  and  the  mistress 
69 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

of  her  undying  affections.  The  long-eared, 
plumy,  young  setter-mother  stood  licking  the 
back  of  Rose  Mary's  neck  as  she  sat  on  the 
barn  floor  with  all  five  of  the  young  tumblers 
in  her  lap,  with  Tobe  and  Stonie  hanging  rap- 
turously over  her  and  them,  while  Uncle 
Tucker  was  expatiating  on  some  points  that 
had  made  themselves  evident  even  at  this  very 
early  stage  of  the  existence  of  the  little  dog 
babies. 

"They  ain't  not  a  single  stub  nose  in  the 
bunch,  Uncle  Tuck,  not  a  one  and  everybody's 
of  thems  toes  stick  way  apart,"  exclaimed  the 
General,  his  cheeks  red  with  joyous  pride. 

"Watch  'em,  Miss  Ro'  Mary;  watch  'em 
smell  Sniffle  when  I  call  her  over  here,"  ex- 
claimed Tobe  as  he  held  out  the  pan  to  Mrs. 
Sniffer  and  thus  coaxed  her  from  the  side  of 
Rose  Mary  and  the  small  family.  And,  sure 
enough,  around  squirmed  every  little  white 
and  yellow  bunch  and  up  went  every  little 
new-born  nose  as  it  sniffed  at  the  recession 
7° 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

of  the  maternal  fount.  One  little  precocious 
even  went  so  far  as  to  attempt  to  set  his  wee 
fore  paddies  against  Rose  Mary's  knee  and  to 
stiffen  a  tiny  plume  of  a  tail,  with  a  plain  in- 
stinct to  point  the  direction  of  the  shifting  base 
of  supplies.  Rose  Mary  gave  a  cry  of  delight 
and  hugged  the  whole  talented  family  to  her 
breast,  while  Stonie  and  Tobe  yelled  and 
danced  as  Uncle  Tucker  turned  with  evident 
emotion  to  Everett  to  claim  his  congratulations. 

"Never  saw  anything  like  it  in  my  life," 
Everett  assured  him  with  the  greatest  enthusi- 
asm, and,  as  he  spoke,  he  laughed  down  into 
Rose  Mary's  lifted  blue  eyes  that  were  posi- 
tively tender  with  pride  over  the  puppies  in  her 
arms.  "It's  a  sight  worth  losing  the  tale  of  a 
dream  for — taken  all  together." 

"And  all  the  others — I'll  show  you,"  and, 
gathering  her  skirts  basketwise,  Rose  Mary 
rose  to  her  feet  and  led  the  way  across  the 
barn,  with  Sniffer  snuffing  along  at  the  squirm- 
ing bundle  in  her  skirts,  that  swung  against  the 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

white  petticoat  ruffling  around  her  slim  ankles. 
With  the  utmost  care  she  deposited  the  pup- 
pies in  an  overturned  barrel,  nicely  lined  with 
hay,  that  Stonie  and  Tobe  had  been  preparing. 
"They  are  lovely,  Sniffle,"  she  said  softly  to 
the  young  mother,  who  jumped  in  and  hud- 
dled down  beside  the  babies  as  her  mistress 
turned  to  leave  them  with  the  greatest  reluc- 
tance. 

And  it  was  well  that  the  strata  of  Everett's 
enthusiasm  lay  near  the  surface  and  was  easily 
workable,  for  in  the  next  half-hour  there  was 
a  great  demand  of  continuous  output.  Mrs. 
Butter  stood  switching  her  tail  and  chewing  at 
a  wisp  of  hay  with  an  air  of  triumphant  pride 
tinged  with  mild  surprise  as  she  turned  occa- 
sionally to  glance  at  the  offspring  huddled 
against  her  side  and  found  eight  wobbly  legs 
instead  of  the  four  her  former  experiences 
had  led  her  to  expect,  and  felt  two  little  noz- 
zling  noses  instead  of  one. 

"Which  one  do  you  guess  was  the  surprise 
72 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

calf  to  her,  Rose  Mamie?"  demanded  the  Gen- 
eral. 

"Shoo!"  said  Tobe  in  answer  to  the  Gen- 
eral's question.  "Old  Butter  have  had  them 
two  calfs  to  purpose,  boy  and  girl,  one  to 
keep  and  one  to  kill.  She  got  mixed  about 
whether  Mr.  Tuck  keeps  heifers  or  bulls  and 
jest  had  both  kinds  so  as  to  keep  one  sure." 

"Well,  Aunt  Viney  read  in  her  book  of  a 
place  they  kills  girls  and  keeps  boys.  At  this 
place  they  jest  gits  it  mixed  up  with  the  cows 
and  it's  no  use  to  tell  'em,"  answered  the  Gen- 
eral in  a  disgusted  tone  of  voice,  and  with  a 
stern  glance  at  Uncle  Tucker,  as  he  and  Tobe 
passed  on  over  to  the  feed-room  door,  to  lead 
the  way  to  the  display  of  the  little  turks  and 
cheeps  for  Everett's  further  edification. 

And  just  as  the  introductions  were  all  com- 
pleted two  deep  notes  of  the  mellow  old  farm 
bell  sounded  over  the  hill  in  a  hospitable  and 
reverent  summons  to  prayers  and  breakfast 
ensuing.  On  the  instant  two  pairs  of  pink 

73 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

heels  were  shown  to  the  company  as  Stonie 
and  Tobe  raced  up  the  walk,  which  were  quick- 
ly followed  by  Uncle  Tucker,  intent  on  being 
on  hand  promptly  for  the  assembling  of  his 
household.  More  slowly  Rose  Mary  and  Ev- 
erett followed,  walking  side  by  side  along  the 
narrow  path. 

"Rose  Mary,  have  you  let  me  sleep  through 
such  exciting  scenes  as  this  every  morning  for 
a  month?"  demanded  Everett  quizzically. 
"What  time  do  you  get  up — or  is  it  that  the 
sun  waits  for  your  summons  or — " 

"No,  not  my  summons — old  lame  Shang- 
hi's.  I  believe  he  is  of  French  extraction  from 
his  elaborate  manner  with  the  hens,"  answered 
Rose  Mary,  quickly  applying  his  plagiarized 
compliment.  "Let's  hurry  or  I'll  be  late  for 
prayers.  Would  you  like — will  you  come  in 
to-day,  as  you  are  already  up?"  The  color 
rose  in  Rose  Mary's  cheeks  up  under  her  long 
lashes  and  she  gave  him  just  one  shy  glance 
that  had  a  tinge  of  roguishness  in  it. 
74 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

"Thank  you,  I— I  would  like  to.  That  is,  if 
I  may — if  I  won't  be  in  the  way  or — or — or — 
will  you  hold  my  hand  so  I  won't  go  wrong?" 
he  finished  in  laughing  confusion  as  the  color 
came  under  the  tan  of  his  cheeks  to  match  that 
in  hers  and  the  young  look  lay  for  a  moment 
in  his  eyes.  "It'll  be  my  debut  at  family  wor- 
ship," he  added  quickly  to  cover  his  confusion. 

"Don't  worry,  Uncle  Tucker  leads  it,"  an- 
swered Rose  Mary  as  they  ascended  the  front 
steps  and  came  across  the  front  porch  to  the 
doorway  of  the  wide  hall,  which  was  the  liv- 
ing-room, as  well  as  the  artery  of  the  Briars. 

And  a  decorous  and  seemly  scene  they 
stepped  in  upon.  Uncle  Tucker  sat  back  of  a 
small  table,  which  was  placed  at  one  side  of  the 
wide  open  fireplace,  in  which  crackled  a  bit  of 
fragrant,  spring  fire.  His  Bible  and  a  couple 
of  hymn-books  rested  in  front  of  him,  his  gray 
forelock  had  been  meekly  plastered  down  and 
the  jocund  lavender  scarf  had  been  laid  aside 
to  display  a  straight  white  collar  and  clerical 
75 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

black  bow  tie.  His  eyes  were  bent  on  the  book 
before  him  as  he  sought  for  the  text  for  the 
morning  lesson.  Aunt  Viney  sat  close  beside 
him  as  if  anxious  to  be  as  near  to  the  source 
of  worship  as  possible,  though  the  strain  of  re- 
fraining from  directing  Uncle  Tucker  in  the 
conducting  thereof  was  very  great  The  tradi- 
tion which  forced  silence  upon  women  in 
places  of  public  worship  had  held  with  Miss 
Lavinia  only  by  the  exercising  of  the  sternest 
and  most  rigorous  self-suppression,  which  at 
any  time  might  have  been  broken  except  for 
the  curbing  of  her  iron  will. 

But  even  though  silent  she  was  still  domi- 
nant, and  over  her  glasses  her  eyes  shot  glances 
of  stern  rebuke  at  two  offenders  in  a  distant 
corner,  while  Uncle  Tucker  fluttered  the  leaves 
of  his  hymn-book,  oblivious  to  the  unseemly 
contention.  The  General  and  Tobe,  who  came 
as  near  to  living  and  having  his  being  at  the 
Briars  as  was  possible  in  consideration  of  the 
fact  that  he  was  supposed  to  have  his  bed  and 
76 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

board  under  his  own  paternal  roof,  were  kneel- 
ing demurely  beside  a  small  rocking-chair, 
but  a  battle  royal  was  going  on  as  to  who 
would  possess  the  low  seat  on  which  to  bow 
the  head  of  reverence. 

Little  Miss  Amanda  from  across  the  room, 
in  terror  of  what  might  befall  her  favorites  at 
the  hands  of  Miss  Lavinia  in  a  later  hour  of 
reckoning,  was  making  beseeching  gestures  of 
alarm,  warning  and  reproof  that  were  entirely 
inadequate  to  the  situation,  which  was  fast  be- 
coming acute,  when  the  two  tardy  members 
arrived  on  the  scene  of  action.  It  took  Rose 
Mary  one  second  to  grasp  the  situation,  and, 
motioning  Everett  to  a  chair  beside  the  rocker, 
she  seated  herself  quickly  in  the  very  midst  of 
the  scuffle.  In  a  half-second  Tobe's  head  was 
bowed  in  triumph  on  the  arm  of  her  chair, 
while  the  General's  was  ducked  with  equal  tri- 
umph upon  her  knee  as  Uncle  Tucker's  sweet 
old  voice  rose  in  the  first  words  of  his  prayer. 

But  after  a  few  minutes  of  most  becoming 

77 


ROSE   OF   OLD   HARPETH 

reverence  Stonie's  eyes  opened  and  revealed 
his  surprise  at  Everett's  presence  as  he  knelt 
by  the  chair  across  from  Tobe  and  almost  as 
close  to  Rose  Mary's  protective  presence  as 
either  of  the  two  combatants.  With  a  welcom- 
ing smile  the  General  slipped  the  little  brown 
hand  of  fellowship  into  the  stranger's,  thereby 
offering  a  material  support  to  the  latter's 
agony  of  embarrassment,  which  only  very 
slowly  receded  from  face  and  demeanor  as  the 
services  proceeded. 

Then  as  across  the  crackle  of  the  fire  came 
the  confident  word  of  David  the  Singer: 
"The  earth  is  the  Lord's  and  the  fullness 
thereof;  the  world  and  they  that  dwell  there- 
in" intoned  in  the  old  man's  reverent  voice, 
something  led  Everett's  glance  out  through 
the  open  door  to  see  the  bit  of  divine  domin- 
ion that  spread  before  him  with  new  eyes  and 
a  newer  understanding.  Harpeth  Valley  lay 
like  the  tender  palm  of  a  huge  master  hand 
with  the  knuckles  of  rough  blue  hills  knotted 
78 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

around  it,  and  dotted  over  the  fostering  mead- 
ows were  comfortable  homes,  each  with  its 
morning  altar  fire  sending  up  opal  wreaths  of 
mist  smoke  from  the  red  brick  or  stone  chim- 
neys. Long  creek  lines  marked  their  way 
across  the  fields  which  were  growing  tender 
green  with  the  upbringing  of  the  spring  grain. 

"Who  hath  measured  the  waters  in  the  hol- 
low of  His  hand,"  droned  Uncle  Tucker.  "The 
hollow  of  His  hand"  assented  Everett's  con- 
science in  artistic  appreciation  of  the  simile. 

"And  stretched  out  the  heavens  as  a  cur- 
tain, and  spreadeth  them  out  as  a  tent  to  dwell 
in,"  came  as  another  line  of  interpretation  of 
the  picture  spread  before  the  strangely  un- 
shackled eyes  of  the  bowed  man  with  the  little 
boy  kneeling  beside  him.  Quickly  he  turned 
toward  Rose  Mary  with  almost  a  startled 
glance  and  found  in  her  eyes  the  fact  that  she 
had  been  faring  forth  over  Harpeth  Valley  on 
the  wings  of  Uncle  Tucker's  supplication  as 
had  he.  The  wonder  of  it  rose  in  his  eyes, 
79 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

which  were  about  to  lay  bare  to  her  depths 
never  before  stirred,  when  a  fervent  "Amen! 
I  beat  you  that  time,  Tobe !"  fairly  exploded  at 
his  ear  as  the  General  took  the  final  word  out 
of  Uncle  Tucker's  very  mouth  in  rival  to  his 
worshipping  opponent. 

"I  said  it  first,  but  it  got  blowed  into  Miss 
Ro'  Mary's  sleeve,"  avowed  Tobe  with  a  flaunt 
at  his  competitor. 

"If  nobody  he'r'n  it,  it  don't  count,"  decided 
the  General  with  emphasis.  And  in  friendly 
dispute  he  escorted  his  rival  down  the  front 
walk,  while  Uncle  Tucker,  as  was  his  custom, 
busied  himself  straightening  hymn-book  and 
Bible,  so  leaving  the  family  altar  in  readiness 
for  the  beginning  of  a  new  day.  And  thus  the 
primitive  ceremonial,  the  dread  of  which  had 
kept  Everett  late  in  bed  every  morning  for  a 
month,  had  resolved  itself  into  what  seemed 
to  him  but  the  embrace  of  a  tender,  whimsical 
brotherhood  in  which  the  old  mystic  both  as- 
sumed and  accounted  for  a  stewardship  in  be- 
So 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

half  of  the  others  assembled  under  his  roof- 
tree. 

But  in  the  eyes  of  Miss  Lavinia  all  forms  of 
service  were  the  marshalling  of  the  hosts  in 
battle  array  and  at  all  times  she  was  enlisted 
in  the  ranks  of  the  church  militant,  and  upon 
this  occasion  she  bore  down  upon  Everett  with 
banners  unfurled. 

"We  are  mighty  gratified  to  welcome  you 
at  last  in  the  circle  of  family  worship,  young 
man,"  she  declaimed,  as  reproach  and  cordial- 
ity vied  in  her  voice.  "I  have  been  a-laying 
off  to  ask  you  what  church  you  belonged  to  in 
New  York,  and  have  a  little  talk  with  you  over 
some  of  our  sacred  duties  that  young  people 
of  this  generation  are  apt — " 

"Rose  Mary,"  came  Miss  Amanda's  cheery 
little  voice  from  the  doorway  just  in  time  to 
save  Everett  from  the  wish,  if  not  even  a  vain 
attempt,  to  sink  through  the  floor,  "bring  Mr. 
Mark  right  on  in  to  breakfast  before  the  waf- 
fles set.  Sister  Viney,  your  coffee  is  a-getting 
81 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

cold."  Little  Miss  Amanda  had  seen  and 
guessed  at  his  plight  and  the  coffee  threat  to 
Miss  Lavinia  had  been  one  of  the  nimble 
manoeuvers  that  she  daily,  almost  hourly,  em- 
ployed in  the  management  of  her  sister's  pon- 
derosity. Thus  she  had  saved  this  day,  but 
Everett  knew  that  there  were  others  to  come, 
and  in  the  dim  distance  he  discerned  his 
Waterloo. 

And  as  he  worked  carefully  with  his  exam- 
ining pick  over  beyond  the  north  pasture 
through  the  soft  spring-warm  afternoon,  he 
occasionally  smiled  to  himself  as  the  morning 
scene  of  worship,  etched  deep  on  his  conscious- 
ness by  its  strangeness 'to  his  tenets  of  life,  rose 
again  and  again  to  his  mind's  eye.  They  were 
a  wonderful  people,  these  Valley  folk,  descend- 
ants of  the  Huguenots  and  Cavaliers  who  had 
taken  the  wilderness  trail  across  the  moun- 
tains and  settled  here  "in  the  hollow"  of  old 
Harpeth's  hand.  They  were  as  interesting 
scientifically  from  a  philosophical  standpoint 
82 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

as  were  the  geological  formations  which  lay 
beneath  their  blue-grass  and  clover  fields. 
They  built  altars  to  what  seemed  to  him  a 
primitive  God,  and  yet  their  codes  were  in 
many  cases  not  only  ethically  but  economic- 
ally and  democratically  sound.  The  men  he 
had  found  shrewd  and  as  a  whole  more  inter- 
ested and  versed  in  statescraft  than  would 
seem  possible,  considering  their  shut-in  loca- 
tion in  regard  to  the  places  where  the  world 
wheels  seem  to  revolve.  But  were  there  larger 
wheels  revolving,  silently,  slowly,  but  just  as 
relentlessly,  out  here  where  the  heavens  were 
stretched  "as  a  curtain/'  and  "as  a  tent  to 
dwell  in?" 

f  'The  earth  and  the  fullness  thereof,' "  he 
mused  as  he  raised  his  eyes  to  the  sky;  "it's 
theirs,  certainly,  and  they  dedicate  it  to  their 
God.  I  wonder — "  Suddenly  the  picture  of 
the  woman  in  the  barn  rose  to  his  mind,  strong 
and  gracious  and  wonderful,  vrith  the  young 
"fullness"  pressing  around  her,  teeming  with — 
83 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

force.  What  force — and  what  source?  Sud- 
denly he  dropped  his  pick  behind  a  convenient 
bush,  shouldered  his  kit  of  rocks  and  sand, 
climbed  the  fence  and  tramped  away  down 
Providence  Road  to  Sweetbriar,  Rose  Mary 
and  her  cold  milk  crocks,  thither  impelled  by 
deep — thirsts. 

And  under  the  hospitable  eaves  of  the  milk- 
house  he  found  Rose  Mary  and  her  cooling 
draft — also  Mrs.  Caleb  Rucker,  with  small 
Pete  in  tow. 

"Howdy,  Mr.  Mark,"  the  visiting  neighbor 
answered  in  response  to  his  forcedly  cordial 
greeting.  If  a  man  has  walked  a  mile  and  a 
half  with  a  picture  of  a  woman  handing  him  a 
glass  of  cool  milk  with  a  certain  lift  of  black 
lashes  from  over  deep,  black  blue  eyes  it  is — 
disconcerting  to  have  her  do  it  in  the  presence 
of  another. 

"I  just  come  over  to  get  a  bucket  of  butter- 
milk for  Granny  Satterwhite,"  he  found  Mrs. 
Rucker  saying  as  he  forced  his  attention. 
84 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

"She  won't  touch  mine  if  there's  any  of  Rose 
Mary's  handy.  Looks  like  she  thinks  she's 
drinking  some  of  Rose  Mary's  petting  with 
every  gulp." 

Everett  had  just  raised  the  glass  Rose  Mary- 
had  handed  him,  to  his  lips,  as  Mrs.  Rucker 
spoke,  and  over  its  edge  he  regarded  the  roses 
that  suddenly  blushed  out  in  her  cheeks,  but 
she  refused  to  raise  her  lashes  the  fraction  of 
an  inch  and  went  calmly  on  pressing  the  milk 
from  the  butter  she  had  just  taken  from  the 
churn. 

"Granny  knows  that  love  can  be  sent  just  as 
well  in  a  glass  of  buttermilk  as  in  a  valentine," 
she  finally  said,  and  as  she  spoke  a  roguish 
smile  coaxed  at  the  corner  of  her  mouth. 
"Don't  you  suppose  a  piece  of  hemp  twine 
would  turn  into  a  gold  cord  if  you  tied  it 
around  a  bundle  of  true  love?"  she  ventured 
further  in  a  spirit  of  daring,  still  with  her  eyes 
on  the  butter. 

"Now  that's  something  in  meaning  like  my 
85 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

first  husband,  Mr.  Sattenvhite,  said  when  we 
was  married,"  assented  Mrs.  Rucker  with 
hearty  appreciation  of  the  practicality  in  Rose 
Mary's  sentiment.  "He  gave  me  two  sows, 
each  with  a  litter  of  pigs,  for  a  wedding  pres- 
ent and  said  they'd  be  a  heap  more  to  me  than 
any  kind  of  jimcracks  he  could  er  bought  for 
half  the  money  they'd  bring.  And  they  was, 
for,  in  due  course  of  time,  I  sold  all  them  hogs 
and  bought  the  plush  furniture  in  the  front, 
room,  melojeon  and  all.  Now  Mr.  Rucker, 
he  give  me  a  ring  with  a  blue  set  and  'darling' 
printed  inside  it  that  cost  fifty  cents  extra,  and 
Jennie  Rucker  swallowed  that  ring  before  she 
was  a  year  old.  I  guess  she  has  got  it  growed 
up  inside  her,  for  all  I  know  of  it,  and  her  Paw 
is  a-setting  on  Mr.  Satterwhite's  furniture  at 
present,  speaking  still.  Sometimes  it  makes 
me  feel  sad  to  think  of  Mr.  Sattenvhite  when 
Cal  Rucker  spells  out,  Shall  we  meet  beyond 
the  river  with  two  fingers  on  that  melojeon. 
But  then  I  even  up  my  feelings  by  remember- 
86 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

ing  how  Cal  let  me  name  Pete  for  Mr.  Satter- 
white,  which  is  a  second-husband  compliment 
they  don't  many  men  pass;  and  it  pleased 
Granny  so." 

"Mr.  Rucker  is  always  nice  to  Granny  Sat- 
terwhite,"  said  Rose  Mary  with  the  evident 
intention  of  extolling  the  present  incumbent 
of  the  husband  office  to  her  friend.  But  at  the 
mention  of  his  name  a  moment  earlier,  young 
Peter,  the  bond  between  the  past  and  present, 
had  sidled  out  the  door  and  proceeded  to  sit 
calmly  down  on  the  rippling  surface  of  the 
spring  branch.  His  rescue  and  retirement  ne- 
cessitated his  mother's  departure  and  Everett 
was  left  in  command  of  the  two-alone  situa- 
tion he  desired. 

"Hasn't  this  been  a  lovely,  long  day  ?"  asked 
Rose  Mary  as  she  turned  the  butter  into  a 
large  jar  and  pressed  a  white  cloth  close  over 
it  with  a  stone  top.  "To-night  is  the  full  April 
moon  and  I've  got  a  surprise  for  you,  if  you 
don't  find  it  out  too  soon.  Will  you  walk  over 
87 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

to  Tilting  Rock,  beyond  the  barn-lot,  with  me 
after  supper  and  let  me  show  you?" 

"Will  I  cross  the  fields  of  Elysium  to  gaze 
over  the  pearly  ramparts?"  demanded  Everett 
with  boyish  enthusiasm,  if  not  a  wholly  accu- 
rate use  of  mythological  metaphor.  <fLet's 
cut  supper  and  go  on  now !  What  do  you  say  ? 
Why  wait?" 

"I'm  afraid,"  laughed  Rose  Mary  as  she 
prepared  to  close  up  the  wide  window  and 
leave  everything  in  shipshape  for  the  night. 
"A  woman  oughtn't  to  risk  feeding  a  hungry 
man  cold  moonbeams  instead  of  hot  hoecake. 
Besides,  I  have  to  see  everybody  safely  tucked 
in  before  I  can  leave.  Aren't  they  all  a  pre- 
cious houseful  of  early-to-bed  chickens?  The 
old  Sweeties  have  forgotten  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  the  moon  and  Stonie  hasn't — found  it 
out — yet."  And  with  a  mischievous  backward 
glance,  Rose  Mary  led  the  way  up  the  lilac 
path  to  the  Briars  on  top  of  the  hill  just  as  the 
old  bell  sounded  two  wobbly  notes,  their  uncer- 
88 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

tainty  caused  by  the  rivalry  of  the  General  and 
Tobe  over  the  pulling  of  the  ropes. 

And  it  was  quite  two  hours  later 'that  she 
and  Everett  made  their  way  across  the  barn-lot 
over  to  the  broad,  moss-covered  Tilting  Rock 
that  jutted  out  from  a  little  hackberry-covered 
knoll  at  the  far  end  of  the  pasture. 

"Now  look — and  smell  in  deep!"  exclaimed 
Rose  Mary  excitedly  as  she  pointed  back  to 
the  Briars. 

"Why — why!"  exclaimed  Everett  under  his 
breath,  "it's  enchantment!  It's  a  dream — am 
I  awake?" 

And  indeed  a  very  vision  spread  itself  out 
before  the  wondering  man.  The  low  roof  and 
wide  wings  of  the  Briars,  with  the  delicate 
traceries  of  vines  over  the  walls  and  gables, 
shone  a  soft,  old-brick  pink  in  the  glow  of 
moonlight,  and  over  and  around  it  all  gushed 
a  very  shower  of  shimmering  white  blossoms, 
surrounding  the  house  like  a  mist  around  an 
early  blooming  rose.  And  as  he  looked,  wave 
89 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

on  wave  of  fragrance  beat  against  Everett's 
face  and  poured  over  his  head. 

"What  is  it?"  he  demanded  breathlessly,  as 
if  dizzy  from  a  too  deep  drinking  of  the  per- 
fume. 

"Don't  you  know  ?  It's  the  locust  trees  that 
have  bloomed  out  since  sunset!"  exclaimed 
Rose  Mary  in  as  breathless  a  tone  as  his  own. 
"For  a  week  I  have  been  watching  and  hoping 
they  would  be  out  in  the  full  moon.  They  are 
so  delicate  that  the  least  little  cold  wind  sets 
them  back  days  or  destroys  them  altogether. 
I  wanted  them  so  very  much  this  year  for  you, 
and  I  was  so  afraid  you  would  notice  them  be- 
fore we  got  over  here  where  you  could  get  the 
full  effect.  I  promised  you  lilacs  for  being 
good,  but  this  is  just  because — because — " 

"Because  what?"  asked  Everett  quietly. 

"Because  I  felt  you  would  appreciate  it," 

answered  Rose  Mary,  as  she  sank  down  on  the 

stone  that  still  held  a  trace  of  the  warmth  from 

the  sun,  and  made  room  for  Everett  beside 

90 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

her  with  one  of  her  ever-ready,  gracious 
little  gestures.  "And  it's  lovely  to  have  you 
here  to  look  at  it  with  me,"  she  added.  "So 
many  times  I  have  sat  here  alone  with  the 
miracle,  and  my  heart  has  ached  for  the  whole 
world  to  get  the  vision  of  it  at  least.  I've  tried 
sending  my  love  of  it  out  in  little  locust  prayers 
to  folks  over  the  Ridge.  Did  you  ever  happen 
to  get  one  any  spring?" 

"Last  April  I  turned  down  a  commission  for 
a  false  test  for  the  biggest  squeeze-out  copper 
people  in  the  world,  fifty  thousand  in  it  to  me. 
I  thought  it  was  moral  courage,  but  I  know 
now  it  was  just  on  account  of  the  locusts 
blooming  in  Harpeth  Valley  at  Sweetbriar.  Do 
you  get  any  connection?"  he  demanded  lightly, 
if  a  bit  unevenly. 

"To  think  that  would  be  worth  all  the  lone- 
liness," answered  Rose  Mary  gently.  "Things 
were  very  hard  for  me  the  first  year  I  had  to 
come  back  from  college.  I  used  to  sit  here  by 
the  hour  and  watch  Providence  Road  wind 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

away  over  the  Ridge  and  nothing  ever  seemed 
to  come  or  go  for  me.  But  that  was  only  for  a 
little  while,  and  now  I  never  get  the  time  to 
breathe  between  the  things  that  happen  along 
Providence  Road  for  me  to  attend  to.  I  came 
back  to  Sweetbriar  like  an  empty  crock,  with 
just  dregs  of  disappointment  at  the  bottom,  and 
now  I'm  all  ready  every  morning  to  have  five 
gallons  of  lovely  folks-happenings  poured  into 
a  two-and-a-half -gallon  capacity.  I  wish  I  were 
twins  or  twice  as  much  me." 

"Why,  you  have  never  told  me  before,  Rose 
Mary,  that  you  belong  to  the  new-woman  per- 
suasion, with  a  college  hall-mark  and  suffragist 
leanings.  I  have  made  the  mistake  of  putting 
you  in  the  home-guard  brigade  and  classing 
you  fifty  years  behind  your  times.  Don't  tell 
me  you  have  an  M.  A.  I  can't  stand  it  to- 
night." 

"No,  I  haven't  got  one,"  answered  Rose 
Mary  with  both  a  smile  and  a  longing  in  her 
voice.  "I  came  home  in  the  winter  of  my  junior 
92 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  DAME  NATURE 

year.  My  father  was  one  of  the  Harpeth  Val- 
ley boys  who  went  out  into  the  world,  and  he 
came  back  to  die  under  the  roof  where  his 
fathers  had  fought  off  the  Indians,  and  he 
brought  poor  little  motherless  me  to  leave  with 
the  aunts  and  Uncle  Tucker.  They  loved  me 
and  cared  for  me  just  as  they  did  Uncle  Tuck- 
er's son,  who  was  motherless,  too,  and  a  few 
years  after  he  went  out  into  the  world  to  seek 
the  fortune  he  felt  so  sure  of,  I  was  given  my 
chance  at  college.  In  my  senior  year  his  trag- 
edy came  and  I  hurried  back  to  find  Uncle 
Tucker  broken  and  old  with  the  horror  of  it, 
and  with  the  place  practically  sold  to  avoid 
open  disgrace.  His  son  died  that  year  and 
left — left — some  day  I  will  tell  you  the  rest  of 
it.  I  might  have  gone  back  into  the  world  and 
made  a  success  of  things  and  helped  them  in 
that  way,  from  a  distance — but  what  they 
needed  was — was  me.  And  so  I  sat  here  many 
sunset  hours  of  loneliness  and  looked  along 
Providence  Road  until — until  I  think  the  Mas- 
93 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

ter  must  have  passed  this  way  and  left  me  His 
peace,  though  my  mortal  eyes  didn't  see  Him. 
And  now  there  lies  my  home  nest  swung  in  a 
bower  of  blossoms  full  of  the  old  sweetie  birds, 
the  boy,  the  calf,  puppy  babies,  pester  chickens 
and — and  I'm  going  to  take  a  large,  gray, 
prowling  night-bird  back  and  tuck  him  away 
for  fear  his  cheeks  will  look  hollow  in  the 
morning.  I'm  the  mother  bird,  and  while  I 
know  He  watches  with  me  all  through  the 
night,  sometimes  I  sing  in  the  dark  because  I 
and  my  nesties  are  close  to  Him  and  I'm  not 
the  least  bit  afraid." 


94 


"  I  hope  you  feel  easy  in  your  mind  now  " 


CHAPTER   IV 

MOONLIGHT  AND  APPLE-BLOW 

"T  HOPE  you  feel  easy  in  your  mind,  child, 
A  now  you've  put  this  whole  garden  to  bed 
and  tucked  'em  under  cover,  heads  and  all," 
said  Uncle  Tucker,  as  he  spread  the  last  bit  of 
old  sacking  down  over  the  end  of  the  row  of 
little  sprouting  bean  vines.  "When  I  look  at 
the  garden  I'm  half  skeered  to  go  in  the  house 
to  bed  for  fear  I  haven't  got  a  quilt  to  my 
joints." 

•  "Now,  honey  sweet,  you  know  better  than 
that,"  answered  Rose  Mary  as  she  rose  from 
weighting  down  the  end  of  a  frilled  white  petti- 
coat with  a  huge  clod  of  earth  and  stretched  it 
so  as  to  cover  quite  two  yards  of  the  green 
shoots.  "I  haven't  taken  a  thing  of  yours  but 
two  shirts  and  one  of  your  last  summer  seer- 
95 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

sucker  coats.  I'm  going  to  mend  the  split  up 
the  back  in  it  for  the  wash  Monday.  Aunt 
Amandy  lent  me  two  aprons  and  a  sack  and  a 
petticoat  for  the  peony  bushes,  and  Aunt  Viney 
gave  me  this  shawl  and  three  chemises  that 
cover  all  the  pinks.  I've  taken  all  the  table- 
cloths for  the  early  peas,  and  Stonie's  shirts, 
each  one  of  them,  have  covered  a  whole  lot  of 
the  poet's  narcissus.  All  the  rest  of  the  things 
are  my  own  clothes,  and  I've  still  got  a  clean 
dress  for  to-morrow.  If  I  can  just  cover 
everything  to-night,  I  won't  be  afraid  of  the 
frost  any  more.  You  don't  want  all  the  lovely 
little  green  things  to  die,  do  you,  and  not  have 
any  snaps  or  peas  or  peonies  at  all  ?" 

"Oh,  fly-away!"  answered  Uncle  Tucker  as 
he  tucked  in  the  last  end  of  a  nondescript  frill 
over  a  group  of  tiny  cabbage  plants,  "there's 
not  even  a  smack  of  frost  in  the  air!  It's  all 
in  your  mind." 

"Well,  a  mind  ought  to  be  sensitive  about 
covering  up  its  friends  from  frost  hurts,"  an- 
96 


MOONLIGHT   AND    APPLE-BLOW 

swered  Rose  Mary  propitiatingly  as  she  took 
a  satisfied  survey  of  the  bedded  garden,  which 
looked  like  the  scene  of  a  disorganized  wash- 
day. "Thank  you,  Uncle  Tucker,  for  helping 
me — keep  off  the  frost  from  my  dreams,  any- 
iway.  Don't  you  think — " 

"Well,  howdy,  folks !"  came  a  cheerfully  in- 
terruptive  hail  from  across  the  brick  wall  that 
separated  the  garden  from  the  cinder  walk  that 
lay  along  Providence  Road,  which  ran  as  the 
only  street  through  Sweetbriar,  and  Caleb 
Rucker's  long  face  presented  itself  framed  in 
a  wreath  of  budding  rose  briars  that  topped  the 
^vall  in  their  spring  growth.  "Tenting  up  the 
garden  sass  ag'in,  Miss  Rose  Mary?" 

"No,  we're  jest  giving  all  the  household 
duds  a  mooning  instead  of  a  sunning,  Cal," 
answered  Uncle  Tucker  with  a  chuckle  as  he 
came  over  to  the  wall  beside  the  visitor. 
"What's  the  word  along  the  Road?" 

"Gid  Newsome  have  sent  the  news  as  he'll 
be  here  Sad'ay  night  to  lay  off  and  plow  up 
,97 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

this  here  dram  or  no-dram  question  for  Sweet- 
briar  voters,  so  as  to  tote  our  will  up  to  the 
state  house  for  us  next  election.  As  a  state 
senator,  we  can  depend  on  Gid  to  expend  some 
and  have  notice  taken  of  this  district,  if  for 
nothing  but  his  corn-silk  voice  and  white  wes- 
kit.  It  must  take  no  less'n  a  pound  of  taller  a 
week  to  keep  them  shoes  and  top  hat  of  his'n 
so  slick.  I  should  jedge  his  courting  to  be  kinder 
like  soft  soap  and  molasses,  Miss  Rose  Mary." 
And  Mr.  Rucker's  smile  was  of  the  saddest  as 
he  handed  this  bit  of  gentle  banter  over  the 
wall  to  Rose  Mary,  who  had  come  over  to 
stand  beside  Uncle  Tucker  in  the  end  of  the 
long  path. 

"It's  wonderful  how  devoted  Mr.  Newsome 
is  to  all  his  friends,"  answered  Rose  Mary  with 
a  blush.  "He  sent  me  three  copies  of  the  Bol- 
ivar Herald  with  the  poem  of  yours  he  had 
them  print  last  week,  and  I  was  just  going  over 
to  take  you  and  Mrs.  Rucker  one  as  soon  as  I 
got  the  time  to — " 

98 


MOONLIGHT    AND    APPLE-BLOW 

" Johnnie- jump-ups,  Miss  Rose  Mary,  don't 
you  never  do  nothing  like  that  to  me!"  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Rucker  with  a  very  fire  of  des- 
peration lighting  his  thin  face.  "If  Mis' 
Rucker  was  to  see  one  verse  of  that  there 
poetry  I  would  have  to  plow  the  whole  creek- 
bottom  corn-field  jest  to  pacify  her.  I've  done 
almost  persuaded  her  to  hire  Bob  Nickols  to 
do  it  with  his  two  teams  and  young  Bob,  on 
account  of  a  sciattica  in  my  left  side  that  plow- 
ing don't  do  no  kind  of  good  to.  I  have  took 
at  least  two  bottles  of  her  sasparilla  and  sor- 
gum  water  and  have  let  Granny  put  a  plaster 
as  big  and  loud-smelling  as  a  mill  swamp  on 
my  back  jest  to  git  that  matter  of  the  corn- 
field fixed  up,  and  here  you  most  go  and  stir 
up  the  ruckus  again  with  that  poor  little  Trees 
in  the  Breeze  poem  that  Gid  took  and  had 
printed  unbeknownst  to  me.  Please,  mam,  burn 
them  papers !" 

"Oh,  I  wouldn't  tell  her  for  the  world  if  you 
don't  want  me  to,  Mr.  Rucker!"  exclaimed 

99 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

Rose  Mary  in  distress.     "But  I  am  sure  she 
would  be  proud  of — " 

"No,  it  looks  like  women  don't  take  to  poetry 
for  a  husband;  they  prefers  the  hefting  of  a 
hoe  and  plow  handles.  It's  hard  on  Mis' 
Rucker  that  I  ain't  got  no  constitution  to  work 
with,  and  I  feel  it  right  to  keep  all  my  soul- 
squirmings  and  sech  outen  her  sight.  The 
other  night  as  I  was  a-putting  Petie  to  bed, 
while  she  and  Bob  was  at  the  front  gate  a-try- 
ing  to  trade  on  that  there  plowing,  a  mighty 
sweet  little  verse  come  to  me  about 

"  'The  little  shoes  in  mother's  hand 
Nothing  like  'em  in  the  land/ 

and  the  tears  was  in  my  eyes  so  thick  'cause  I 
didn't  have  nobody  to  say  'em  to  that  one 
dropped  down  on  Pete  and  made  him  think 
I  was  a-going  to  wash  his  face,  and  sech  an- 
other ruckus  as  she  had  to  come  in  to,  as  mad 
as  hops!  If  I  feel  like  it,  I'm  a-going  to  clean 
100 


MOONLIGHT    AND   APPLE-BLOW 

every  weed  outen  the  garden  for  her  next  week 
to  try  and  make  up  to  her  for — " 

"Aw,  Mr.  Rucker,  M-i-s-t-e-r  Rucker,  come 
home  to  get  ready  for  supper,"  came  in  a  loud, 
jovial  voice  that  carried  across  the  street  like 
the  tocsin  of  a  bass  drum.  The  Rucker  home 
sat  in  a  clump  of  sugar  maples  just  opposite 
the  Briars,  and  was  square,  solid  and  un- 
adorned of  vine  or  flower.  A  row  of  bright 
tin  buckets  hung  along  the  picket  fence  that 
separated  the  yard  from  the  store  enclosure, 
and  rain-barrels  sat  under  the  two  front  gutters 
with  stolid  practicability,  in  contrast  to  the 
usual  relegation  of  such  store-houses  of  the 
rainfall  to  the  back  of  the  house  and  the  plant- 
ing of  ferns  and  water  plants  under  the 
front  sprouts,  as  was  the  custom  from  the  be- 
ginning of  time  in  Sweetbriar.  Mrs.  Rucker  in 
a  clean  print  dress  and  with  glossy  and  uncom- 
promisingly smoothed  hair  stood  at  the  newly 
whitewashed  front  gate.  "Send  him  on  home, 
Rose  Mary,  or  grass'll  grow  in  his  tracks  and 
101 


ROSE   OF   OLD   HARPETH 

yours,  too,  if  he  can  hold  you  long  enough," 
she  added  by  way  of  badinage. 

"I'm  a-coming,  Sally,  right  on  the  minute," 
answered  the  poet-by-stealth,  and  he  hurried 
across  the  street  with  hungry  alacrity.  The 
poem-maker  was  tall  and  loose-jointed,  and 
the  breadth  of  his  shoulders  and  long  mus- 
cular limbs  decidedly  suggested  success  at  the 
anvil  or  field  furrow.  He  made  a  jocular  pass 
at  placing  his  arm  around  the  uncompromising 
waist-line  of  his  portly  wife,  and  when  warded 
off  by  an  only  half-impatient  shove  he  con- 
tented himself  by  winding  one  of  her  white 
apron  strings  around  one  of  his  long  fingers  as 
they  leaned  together  over  the  gate  for  further 
parley  with  the  Alloways  across  the  road. 

"When  did  you  get  back,  Mrs.  Rucker?" 
asked  Rose  Mary  interestedly,  as  she  rested  her 
arms  on  the  wall  and  Uncle  Tucker  planted 
himself  beside  her,  having  brushed  away  one 
of  the  long  briar  shoots  to  make  room  for  them 
both. 

1 02 


MOONLIGHT    AND    APPLE-BLOW 

"About  two  hours  ago,"  answered  Mrs. 
Rucker.  "I  found  everybody  in  fine  shape  up 
at  Providence,  and  Mis'  Mayberry  sent  Mr. 
Tucker  a  new  quinzy  medicine  that  Tom  wrote 
back  to  her  from  New  York  just  day  before 
yesterday.  I  made  a  good  trade  in  hogs  with 
Mr.  Hoover  for  myself  and  Bob  Nickols,  too. 
Mr.  Petway  had  a  half-barrel  of  flour  in  his 
store  he  were  willing  to  let  go  cheap,  and  I 
bought  it  for  us  and  you-all  and  the  Poteets. 
Me  and  you  can  even  up  on  that  timothy  seed 
with  the  flour,  Mr.  Tucker,  and  I'm  just 
a-going  to  give  a  measure  to  the  Poteets  as  a 
compliment  to  that  new  Poteet  baby,  which  is 
the  seventh  mouth  to  feed  on  them  eighty-five 
acres.  I've  set  yeast  for  ourn  and  your  rolls 
for  to-morrow,  tell  your  Aunt  Mandy,  Rose 
Mary,  and  I  brought  that  copy  of  the  Christian 
Advocate  for  your  Aunt  Viney  that  she  lost 
last  month.  Mis'  Mayberry  don't  keep  hern, 
but  spreads  'em  around,  so  was  glad  to  let  me 
have  this  one.  I  asked  about  it  before  I  had 
103 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

got  my  bonnet-strings  untied.  Yes,  Cal,  I'm 
a-going  on  in  to  give  you  your  supper,  for  I 
expect  I'll  find  the  children's  and  Granny's 
stomicks  and  backbones  growing  together  if  I 
don't  hurry.  That's  one  thing  Mr.  Satter- 
white  said  in  his  last  illness,  he  never  had  had 
to  wait — yes,  I'm  coming,  Granny,"  and  with 
the  encomium  of  the  late  Mr.  Satterwhite  still 
unfinished  Mrs.  Rucker  hurried  up  the  front 
path  at  the  behest  of  a  high,  querulous  old 
voice  issuing  from  the  front  windows. 

"Well,  there's  no  doubt  about  it,  no  finer 
woman  lives  along  Providence  Road  than 
Sallie  Rucker,  Marthy  Mayberry  and  Selina 
Lue  Lovell  down  at  the  Bluff  not  excepted,  to 
say  nothing  of  Rose  Mary  Alloway  standing 
right  here  in  the  midst  of  my  own  sweet  po- 
tato vines,"  said  Uncle  Tucker  reflectively  as 
he  glanced  at  the  retreating  figure  of  his  sturdy 
neighbor,  which  was  followed  by  that  of  the 
lean  and  hungry  poet. 

"Yes,    she's    wonderful,"    answered    Rose 
104 


MOONLIGHT    AND   APPLE-BLOW 

Mary  enthusiastically,  "but — but  I  wish  she 
had  just  a  little  sympathy  for — for  poetry.  If 
a  husband  sprouts  little  spirit  wings  under  his 
shoulders  it's  a  kind  thing  for  his  wife  not  to 
pick  them  right  out  alive,  isn't  it?  When  I 
get  a  husband — " 

"When  you  get  a  husband,  Rose  Mary,  I 
hope  he'll  hump  his  shoulders  over  a  plow-line 
the  number  of  hours  allotted  for  a  man's  work 
and  then  fly  poetry  kites  off  times  and  only 
when  the  wind  is  right,"  answered  Uncle 
Tucker  with  a  quizzical  smile  in  his  big  eyes 
and  a  quirk  at  the  corner  of  his  mouth. 

"But  I'm  going  always  to  admire  the  kites 
anyway,  even  if  they  don't  fly,"  answered  Rose 
Mary  with  the  teasing  lift  of  her  long  lashes 
up  at  him.  "Maybe  just  a  woman's  puff  might 
start  a  man's  kite  sky  high  that  couldn't  get 
off  right  without  it.  You  can't  tell." 

"Yes,  child,"  answered  Uncle  Tucker  as  he 
looked  into  the  dark  eyes  level  with  his  own 
with  a  sudden  tenderness,  "and  you  never  fail 
105 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

to  start  off  all  kites  in  your  neighborhood. 
When  I  took  you  as  a  bundle  of  nothing  outen 
Brother  John's  arms  nearly  thirty  years  ago 
this  spring  jest  a  perky  encouraging  little  smile 
in  your  blue  eyes  started  my  kite  that  was 
a-trailing  weary  like,  and  it's  sailed  mostly  by 
your  wind  ever  since — especially  these  last  few 
years.  Don't  let  the  breeze  give  out  on  me  yet, 
child." 

"It  never  will,  old  sweetie,"  answered  Rose 
Mary  as  she  took  Uncle  Tucker's  lean  old  hand 
in  hers  and  rubbed  her  cheek  against  the  sleeve 
of  his  rough  farm  coat.  "Is  the  interest  of  the 
mortgage  ready  for  this  quarter?"  she  asked 
quietly  in  almost  a  whisper,  as  if  afraid  to  dis- 
turb some  listening  ear  with  a  private  matter. 

"It  lacks  more  than  a  hundred,"  answered 
Uncle  Tucker  in  just  as  quiet  a  voice,  in  which 
a  note  of  pain  sounded  plainly.  "And  this  is 
not  the  first  time  I  have  fallen  behind  with 
Newsome,  either.  The  repairs  on  the  plows 
and  the  food  chopper  for  the  barn  have  cost  a 
106 


MOONLIGHT    AND    APPLE-BLOW 

good  deal,  and  the  coal  bill  was  large  this  win- 
ter. Sometimes,  Rose  Mary,  I — I  am  afraid 
to  look  forward  to  the  end.  Maybe  if  I  was 
younger  it  would  be  different  and  I  could  pay 
the  debt,  but  I  am  afraid — if  it  wasn't  for  your 
aunts,  looks  like  you  and  I  could  let  it  go  and 
make  our  way  somewhere  out  in  the  world  be- 
yond the  Ridge,  but  they  are  older  than  us  and 
we  must  keep  their  home  as  long  as  we  can  for 
'em.  Maybe  in  a  few  years —  Newsome  won't 
press  me,  I'm  mighty  sure.  Do  you  think  you 
can  help  me  hold  on  for  'em?  I  don't  matter." 

"We'll  never  let  it  go,  Uncle  Tuck,  never!" 
answered  Rose  Mary  passionately  as  she 
pressed  her  cheek  closer  to  his  arm.  "I  don't 
know  why  I  know,  but  we  are  going  to  have 
it  as  long  as  they — and  you,  you  need  it — and 
I'm  going  to  die  here  myself,"  she  added  with 
a  laughing  sob  as  she  shook  two  tears  out  of 
her  lashes  and  looked  up  at  him  with  adorning 
stars  in  her  eyes. 

"It's  as  He  wills,  daughter,"  answered  Uncle 
107 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

Tucker  quietly  as  he  laid  a  tender  hand  on  the 
dark  braids  resting  against  his  shoulder.  "It 
isn't  wrong  for  us  to  go  on  keeping  it  if  we 
can  jest  pay  the  interest  to  our  friend — pay  it 
to  the  day.  That  is  the  only  thing  that  troubles 
me.  We  must  not  fall  behind  and — " 

"Oh,  but  honey-sweet,  let  me  tell  you,  let  me 
tell  you!"  exclaimed  Rose  Mary  with  shining 
eyes,  "I've  got  just  lots  of  money,  more  than 
twenty  dollars,  nearly  twice  more.  I've  saved 
it  just  in  case  we  did  need  it  for  this  or — or — or 
.any  other  thing,"  she  added  hastily,  not  willing 
to  disclose  her  tooth  project  even  to  Uncle 
Tucker's  sympathetic  ear. 

Uncle  Tucker's  large  eyes  brightened  with 
relief  for  a  second  and  then  clouded  with  a  mist 
of  tears. 

"What  were  you  saving  it  for,  child?"  he 
asked  with  a  quaver  in  his  sweet  old  voice, 
and  his  hand  clasped  hers  more  closely.  "You 
don't  ever  have  what  pretty  women  like  you 
want  and  need,  and  that's  what  grinds  down 
108 


MOONLIGHT    AND    APPLE-BLOW 

on  me  most  hardest  of  all.  You  are  young 
and — and  mighty  beautiful,  and  looks  like  it's 
wrong  for  you  to  lay  down  yourself  for  us 
who  are  a  good  long  way  on  the  other  side  of 
life's  ridge.  I  ought  to  send  you  back  across 
the  hills  to — to  find  your  own — no  matter  what 
happens !" 

"Try  it!"  answered  Rose  Mary,  again  lift- 
ing her  star  eyes  to  his.  "I  was  saving  that 
money  to  buy  Aunt  Viney  a  set  of  teeth  that 
she  thinks  she  wants,  but  I  know  she  couldn't 
use  them  when  she  gets  them.  If  I'm  as  beauti- 
ful as  you  say,  isn't  this  blue  homespun  of 
great  Grandmother  Alloways,  made  over  twen- 
tieth century  style,  adornment  enough?  Some 
people — that  is,  some  one — Mr.  Mark  said  this 
morning  it  was — was  chic,  which  means  most 
awfully  stylish.  I've  got  one  for  my  back  and 
one  for  the  tub  all  out  of  the  same  old  blue 
bed-spread,  and  a  white  linen  marvel  contrived 
from  a  pair  of  sheets  for  Sunday.  Please 
don't  send  me  out  into  the  big  world — other 
109 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

people  might  not  think  me  as  lovely  as  you 
do,"  and  her  raillery  was  most  beautifully 
dauntless. 

"The  Lord  bless  you  and  keep  you  and  make 
the  sun  to  shine  upon  you,  flower  of  His  own 
Kingdom,"  answered  Uncle  Tucker  with  a 
comforted  smile  breaking  over  his  wistful  old 
face.  "I  had  mighty  high  dreams  about  you 
when  that  young  man  talked  his  oil-wells  to  me 
a  month  ago,  and  I  wanted  my  rose  to  do  some 
of  her  flowering  for  the  world  to  see,  but 
maybe — maybe — " 

"She'll  flower  best  here,  where  her  roots  go 
down  into  Sweetbriar  hearts — and  Sweetbriar 
prayers,  Uncle  Tucker;  she  knows  that's  true, 
and  so  do  you,"  answered  Rose  Mary  quickly. 
"And  anyway,  Mr.  Mark  is  making  the  soil 
survey  for  you,  and  if  we  follow  his  directions 
there  is  no  telling  what  we  will  make  next  year, 
maybe  the  interest  and  some  of  the  money,  too, 
and  the  teeth  and — and  a  sky-blue  silk  robe  for 
me — if  that's  what  you'd  like  to  see  me  wear, 
no 


MOONLIGHT   AND    APPLE-BLOW 

though  it  would  be  inconvenient  with  the  milk- 
ing and  the  butter  and — " 

"Tucker,  oh  Brother  Tucker!"  came  a  call 
across  the  garden  fence  from  the  house,  in  a 
weak  but  commanding  voice,  and  Rose  Mary 
caught  a  glimpse  of  Miss  Lavinia's  white  mob 
cap  bobbing  at  the  end  of  the  porch,  "that  is  in 
Proverbs  tenth  and  nineteenth,  and  not  nine- 
teenth and  tenth,  like  you  said.  You  come 
right  in  here  and  get  it  straight  in  your  head 
before  the  next  sun  sets  on  your  ignorance." 

"Fly-away !"  exclaimed  Uncle  Tucker,  "now 
Sister  Viney's  never  going  to  forgive  me  that 
Bible  slip-up  if  I  don't  persuade  her  from  now 
on  till  supper.  But  there  is  nothing  more  for 
you  to  do  out  here,  Rose  Mary,  the  sun'll  put 
out  the  light  for  you,"  and  he  hurried  away 
down  the  path  and  through  the  garden  gate. 

Rose  Mary  remained  leaning  over  the  gar- 
den wall,  looking  up  and  down  the  road  with 
interest  shining  in  her  eyes  and  a  laugh  and  nod 
for  the  neighbors  who  were  hurrying  supper- 
III 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

ward  or  stopping  to  talk  with  one  another  over 
fences  and  gates.  A  group  of  men  and  boys 
stood  and  sat  on  the  porch  in  front  of  the  store, 
and  their  big  voices  rang  out  now  and  again 
with  hearty  merriment  at  some  exchange  of 
wit  or  clever  bit  of  horse-play.  Two  women 
stood  in  deep  conclave  over  by  the  Poteet  gate, 
and  the  subject  of  the  council  was  a  small 
bundle  of  flannel  and  lawn  displayed  with  evi- 
dent pride  by  a  comely  young  woman  in  a  pink 
calico  dress.  Seeing  Rose  Mary  at  the  wall, 
they  both  smiled  and  started  in  her  direction, 
the  bearer  of  the  bundle  stepping  carefully 
across  the  ditch  at  the  side  of  the  walk. 

"Lands  alive,  Rose  Mary,  you  never  did  see 
nothing  as  pretty  as  this  last  Poteet  baby," 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Plunkett  enthusiastically.  "The 
year  before  last  one,  let  me  see,  weren't  that 
Evelina  Virginia,  Mis'  Poteet?  Yes,  Evelina 
Virginia  was  mighty  pretty,  but  this  one  beats 
her.  I  declare,  if  you  was  to  fail  us  with  these 
spring  babies,  Mis'  Poteet,  it  would  be  a  dis- 
112 


MOONLIGHT   AND   APPLE-BLOW 

appointment  to  the  whole  of  Sweetbriar.  Come 
next  April  it  will  be  seven  without  a  year's 
break,  astonishing  as  it  do  sound." 

"It  would  be  as  bad  as  the  sweetbriar  roses 
not  blooming,  Mrs.  Poteet,"  laughed  Rose 
Mary  as  she  held  out  her  arms  for  the  bundle 
which  cuddled  against  her  breast  in  a  woman- 
maddening  fashion  that  made  her  clasp  the 
mite  as  close  as  she  dared. 

"Yes,  I  tell  you,  seven  hand-running  is 
enough  for  any  woman  to  be  proud  of,  Mis'  Po- 
teet, and  it  ought  to  be  taken  notice  of.  Have 
you  heard  the  news  of  the  ten  acres  of  bottom 
land  to  be  given  to  him,  Rose  Mary?  That's 
what  all  the  men  are  a-joking  of  Mr.  Poteet 
about  over  there  at  the  store  now.  They  are 
a-going  to  make  out  the  deed  to-night.  They 
bought  the  land  from  Bob  Nickols  right  next  to 
Mr.  Poteet's,  crops  and  all,  ten  acres  of  the  best 
land  in  Sweetbriar.  I  call  it  a  nice  compli- 
ment. 'To  Tucker  Poteet,  from  Sweetbriar, 
is  to  go  right  in  the  deed." 
"3 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

"  'Tucker  Poteet,'  oh,  Mrs.  Poteet,  have  you 
named  him  for  Uncle  Tucker?"  exclaimed 
Rose  Mary  with  beaming  eyes,  and  the  rap- 
ture of  her  embrace  was  only  modified  by  a 
slight  squirm  from  the  young  heir  of  all  Sweet- 
briar. 

"Well,  I  had  had  that  name  in  my  mind 
from  the  first  if  he  come  a  boy,  but  when  Mr. 
Poteet  got  down  to  the  store  for  some  tansy, 
when  he  weren't  a  hour  old,  he  found  all  the 
men-folks  had  done  named  him  that  for  us, 
and  it  looked  like  we  didn't  have  the  chance  to 
pass  the  compliment.  We  ain't  told  you-all 
nothing  about  it,  for  they  all  wanted  Mr. 
Tucker  to  read  it  in  the  deed  first." 

"And  ain't  them  men  a-going  to  have  a  good 
time  when  they  give  Mr.  Tucker  that  deed  to 
read?  Looks  like,  even  if  it  is  some  trouble, 
you  couldn't  hardly  begrudge  Sweetbriar  these 
April  babies,  Mis'  Poteet,"  said  Mrs.  Plunkett 
in  a  consoling  voice. 

"Law,  Mis'  Plunkett,  I  don't  mind  it  one  bit. 
114 


MOONLIGHT   AND    APPLE-BLOW 

It  ain't  a  mite  of  trouble  to  me  to  have  'em," 
answered  the  mother  of  the  seven  hardily. 
"You  all  are  so  kind  to  help  me  out  all  the  time 
with  everything.  Course  we  are  poor,  but  Jim 
makes  enough  to  feed  us,  an,d  every  single  child 
I've  got  is  by  fortune,  just  a  hand-down  size 
for  somebody  else's  children.  Five  of  'em  just 
stair-steps  into  clothes  of  Mis'  Rucker's  four, 
and  Mis'  Nickols  saves  me  all  of  Bob's  things 
to  cut  down,  so  I  never  have  a  mite  of  worry 
over  any  of  'em." 

"Yes,  I  reckon  maybe  the  worry  spread  over 
seven  don't  have  a  chanct  to  come  to  a  head  on 
any  one  of  'em,"  said  Mrs.  Plunkett  thought- 
fully, and  her  shoulders  began  to  stoop  deject- 
edly as  a  perturbed  expression  dawned  into  her 
gray  eyes.  "Better  take  him  on  home  now, 
Mis'  Poteet,  for  sun-down  is  house-time  for 
babies  in  my  opinion.  Hand  him  over,  Rose 
Mary!" 

Thus  admonished,  with  a  last,  clinging  em- 
brace, Rose  Mary  delivered  young  Tucker  to 
"5 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

his  mother,  who  departed  with  him  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  Poteet  cottage  over  beyond  the 
milk-house. 

"Is  anything  worrying  you,  Mrs.  Plunkett? 
Can  I  help  ?"  asked  Rose  Mary  as  her  neighbor 
lingered  for  a  moment  and  glanced  at  her  with 
wistful  eyes.  Mrs.  Plunkett  was  small,  though 
round,  with  mournful  big  eyes  and  clad  at  all 
times  in  the  most  decorous  of  widow's  weeds, 
even  if  they  were  of  necessity  of  black  calico 
on  week  days.  Soft  little  curls  fell  dejectedly 
down  over  her  eyes  and  her  red  mouth  defied 
a  dimple  that  had  been  wont  to  shine  at  the  left 
corner,  and  kept  to  confines  of  straight-lipped 
propriety. 

"It's  about  Louisa  Helen  again  and  her  light- 
mindedness.  I  don't  see  how  a  daughter  of 
mine  can  act  as  she  does  with  such  a  little  feel- 
ing. Last  night  Mr.  Crabtree  shut  up  the 
store  before  eight  o'clock  and  put  on  his  Sun- 
day coat  to  come  over  and  set  on  the  front 
steps  a-visiting  of  her,  and  in  less'n  a  half 
116 


MOONLIGHT   AND   APPLE-BLOW 

hour  that  Bob  Nickols  had  whistled  for  her 
from  the  corner,  and  she  stood  at  the  front 
gate  talking  to  him  until  every  light  in  Sweet- 
briar  was  put  out,  and  I  know  it  muster  been 
past  nine  o'clock.  And  there  I  had  to  set  a-try- 
ing  to  distract  Mr.  Crabtree  from  her  giggling. 
We  talked  about  Mr.  Plunkett  and  all  our 
young  days  and  I  felt  real  comforted.  If 
I  can  jest  get  Louisa  Helen  to  see  what  a  prop- 
er husband  Thomas  Crabtree  will  make  for  her 
we  can  all  settle  down  comfortable  like.  He 
wants  her  bad,  from  all  the  signs  I  can  see." 

"But — but  isn't  Louisa  Helen  a  little  young 
for — "  began  Rose  Mary,  taking  what  seemed 
a  reasonable  line  of  consolation. 

"No,  she's  not  too  young  to  marry,"  an- 
swered her  mother  with  spirit.  "Louisa  Helen 
is  eighteen  years  old  in  May,  and  I  was  mar- 
ried to  Mr.  Plunkett  before  my  eighteenth 
birthday.  He  was  twenty-one,  and  I  treated 
him  with  proper  respect,  too.  I  never  said  no 
such  foolish  things  as  Louisa  Helen  says  to 
117 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

that  Nickols  boy,  even  to  Mr.  Crabtree,  his- 
self." 

"Oh,  please  don't  worry  about  Louisa  Helen, 
Mrs.  Plunkett.  She  is  just  so  lovely  and 
young — and  happy.  You  and  I  both  know 
what  it  is  to  be  like  that.  Sometimes  I  feel  as 
if  she  were  just  my  own  youngness  that  I  had 
kept  pressed  in  a  book  and  I  had  found  it  when 
I  wasn't  looking  for  it."  And  Rose  Mary's 
smile  was  so  very  lovely  that  even  Mrs.  Plun- 
kett was  dazzled  to  behold. 

"Lands  alive,  Rose  Mary,  you  carry  your 
thirty  years  mighty  easy,  and  that's  no  mis- 
take. You  put  me  in  mind  of  that  blush  peony 
bush  of  yourn  by  the  front  gate.  When  it 
blooms  it  makes  all  the  other  flowers  look  like 
they  was  too  puny  to  shake  out  a  petal.  And 
for  sheep's  eyes,  them  glances  Mr.  Gid  New- 
some  casts  at  you  makes  all  of  Bob  Nickols' 
look  like  foolish  lamb  squints.  And  for  what 
Mr.  Mark  does  in  the  line  of  sheeps —  Now 
there  they  come,  and  I  can  see  from  Louisa 
118 


MOONLIGHT    AND    APPLE-BLOW 

Helen's  looks  she  have  invited  that  rampage 
in  to  supper.  I'll  have  to  hurry  on  over  and 
knock  up  a  extra  sally-lunn  for  him,  I  reckon. 
Good-by  'til  morning!"  And  Mrs.  Plunkett 
hurried  away  to  the  preparation  of  supper  for 
the  suitor  of  her  disapproval. 

For  a  few  moments  longer  Rose  Mary  let 
her  eyes  go  roaming  out  over  the  valley  that 
was  lying  in  a  quiet  hush  of  twilight. 

Lights  had  flashed  up  in  the  windows  over  the 
village  and  a  night  breeze  was  showering  down 
a  fall  of  apple-blow  from  the  gnarled  old  tree 
that  stood  like  a  great  bouquet  beside  the  front 
steps  of  the  Briars.  All  the  orchards  along 
the  Road  were  in  bloom  and  a  fragrance  lay 
heavy  over  the  pastures  and  mingled  with  the 
earth  scent  of  the  fields,  newly  upturned  by  the 
plowing  for  spring  wheat. 

"Is  that  a  regiment  you've  got  camping  in 

the  garden,  Rose  Mary?"  asked  Everett  as  he 

came  up  the  front  walk  in  the  moonlight  some 

two  hours  later  and  found  Rose  Mary  seated 

119 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

on  the  top  of  the  front  steps,  all  alone,  with  a 
perfectly  dark  and  sleep-quiet  house  behind 
her. 

Rose  Mary  laughed  and  tossed  a  handful  of 
the  pink  blow  she  had  gathered  over  his  shoul- 
der. "Did  you  have  your  supper  at  Bolivar?" 
she  asked  solicitously.  "I  saved  you  some; 
want  it?" 

"Yes,  I  had  a  repast  at  the  Citizens',  but  I 
think  I  can  manage  yours  an  hour  or  two 
later,"  answered  Everett  as  he  seated  himself 
beside  her  and  lighted  a  cigar,  from  which  he 
began  to  puff  rings  out  into  the  moonlight  that 
sifted  down  on  to  them  through  the  young 
leaves  of  the  bloom-covered  old  tree.  "You 
weren't  afraid  of  frost  such  a  night  as  this, 
were  you?"  he  further  inquired,  as  he  took  a 
deep  breath  of  the  soft,  perfume-laden  air. 

"I'm  not  now,  but  a  cool  breeze  blew  r.p 

about  sundown  and  made  me  afraid  for  my 

garden  babies.    Now  I'm  sure  they  will  all  wilt 

under  their  covers,  and  you'll  have  to  help  me 

120 


MOONLIGHT   AND    APPLE-BLOW 

take  them  all  off  before  you  go  to  bed.  Isn't 
is  strange  how  loving  things  make  you  afraid 
they  will  freeze  or  wilt  or  get  wet  or  cold  or 
hungry  ?"  asked  Rose  Mary  with  such  delight- 
ful ingenuousness  that  a  warm  little  flush  rose 
up  over  Everett's  collar.  "Loving  just  fright- 
ens itself,  like  children  in  the  dark,"  she  added 
musingly. 

"And  you  saved  my  supper  for  me?"  asked 
Everett  softly. 

"Of  course  I  did ;  didn't  you  know  I  would?" 
asked  Rose  Mary  quickly,  in  her  simplicity  of 
heart  not  at  all  catching  the  subtle  drift  of  his 
question.  "They  all  missed  you,  and  Uncle 
Tucker  went  to  bed  almost  grumpy,  while 
Stonie— " 

"Rose  Mamie,"  came  in  a  sleepy  but  deter- 
mined voice  as  the  General  in  a  long-tailed 
nightshirt  appeared  in  the  dark  doorway,  "I 
went  to  sleep  and  you  never  came  back  to  hear 
me  pray.  Something  woke  me;  maybe  the 
puppy  in  my  bed  or  maybe  God.  I'll  come  out 
121 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

there  and  say  'em  so  you  won't  wake  the  puppy, 
because  he's  goned  back  to  sleep,"  he  added  in 
a  voice  that  was  hushed  to  a  tone  of  extreme 
consideration  for  the  slumber  of  his  young  bed- 
fellow. 

"Yes,  honey-heart,  come  say  them  here.  Mr. 
Mark  won't  mind.  I  came  back,  Stonie,  to 
hear  them,  truly  I  did,  but  you  were  so  fast  to 
sleep  and  so  tired  I  hated  to  wake  you."  And 
Rose  Mary  held  out  tender  arms  to  the  little 
chap  who  came  and  knelt  on  the  floor  at  her 
side,  between  her  and  Everett. 

"But,  Rose  Mamie,  you  know  Aunt  Viney 
says  tired  ain't  no  'scuse  to  the  Lord,  and  I 
don't  think  it  are  neither.  I  reckon  He's  tired, 
too,  sometimes,  but  He  don't  go  back  on  the  lis- 
tening, and  I  ain't  a-going  to  go  back  on  the 
praying.  It  wouldn't  be  fair.  Now  start  me !" 
and  having  in  a  completely  argumentative  way 
stated  his  feelings  on  the  subject  of  neglected 
prayer,  the  General  buried  his  head  on  Rose 
Mary's  shoulder,  folded  one  bare,  pink  foot 
122 


MOONLIGHT    AND    APPLE-BLOW 

across  the  other,  clasped  his  hands  at  proper 
angle  and  waited. 

"Now  I  lay  me"  began  Rose  Mary  in  a  low 
and  tender  tone. 

"No,"  remonstrated  Stonie  in  a  smothered 
voice  from  her  shoulder,  "this  is  'Our  Father' 
week !  Don't  tire  out  the  Lord  with  the  'Now 
I  lay  me,'  Rose  Mamie !" 

With  an  exclamation  of  regret  Rose  Mary 
clasped  him  closer  and  led  the  petition  on 
through  to  its  last  word,  though  it  was  with 
difficulty  that  the  sleepy  General  reached  his 
Amen,  his  will  being  strong  but  his  flesh  weak. 
The  little  black  head  burrowed  under  Rose 
Mary's  chin  and  the  clasped  pink  feet  relaxed 
before  the  final  words  were  said.  For  a  few 
minutes  Rose  Mary  held  him  tenderly  and 
buried  her  face  against  the  back  of  the 
sunburned  little  neck,  while  as  helpless  as 
young  Tucker  Stonie  wilted  upon  her  breast 
and  floated  off  into  the  depths.  And  for 
still  a  few  seconds  longer  Everett  sat  very 
123 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

still  and  watched  them  with  a  curious  gleam 
in  his  eyes  and  his  teeth  set  hard  in  his 
cigar;  then  he  rose,  bent  over  and  very  ten- 
derly lifted  the  relaxed  General  in  his  arms  and 
without  a  word  strode  into  the  house  with  him. 
Very  carefully  he  laid  him  in  the  little  cot 
that  stood  beside  Rose  Mary's  bed  in  her  room 
down  the  hall,  and  with  equal  care  he  settled 
the  little  dog  against  the  bare,  briar-scratched 
feet,  returned  to  the  moonlight  porch  and  re- 
sumed his  seat  at  Rose  Mary's  side. 

"There  is  something  about  the  General,"  he 
remarked  with  a  half  smile,  "that — that  gets 
next.  He  has  a  moral  fiber  that  I  hope  he 
will  be  able  to  keep  resistent  to  its  present  ex- 
tent, but  I  doubt  it." 

"Oh,"  said  Rose  Mary,  quickly  looking  up 
with  pierced,  startled  eyes,  "he  must  keep  it — 
he  must;  it  is  the  only  hope  for  him.  Tell 
me  if  you  can  how  to  help  him  keep  it.  Help 
me  help  him!" 

"Forgive  me,"  answered  Everett  in  quick 
124 


MOONLIGHT    AND   APPLE-BLOW 

distress.  "I  was  only  scoffing,  as  usual.  He'll 
keep  what  you  give  him,  never  fear,  Rose 
Mary;  he's  honor  bound." 

"Yes,  that's  what  I  want  him  to  be — 'honor 
bound.'  You  don't  know  about  him,  but  to- 
night I  want  to  tell  you,  because  I  somehow 
feel  you  love  him — and  us — and  maybe  if  you 
know,  some  day  you  will  help  him.  Just  after 
I  came  back  into  the  Valley  and  found  them 
all  so  troubled  and — and  disgraced,  something 
came  to  me  I  thought  I  couldn't  stand.  Always 
it  seemed  to  me  I  had  loved  him,  my  cousin, 
Uncle  Tucker's  son,  and  I  thought — I  thought 
he  had  loved  me.  But  when  he  went  out  into  the 
world  one  of  the  village  girls,  Granny  Satter- 
white's  daughter,  had  followed  him  and — yes, 
she  had  been  his  wife  for  all  the  time  we 
thought  she  was  working  in  the  city.  They  had 
been  afraid — afraid  of  Uncle  Tucker  and  me — 
to  acknowledge  it.  She  was  foolish  and  he  crim- 
inally weak.  After  his — his  tragedy  she  came 
back — and  nobody  would  believe — that  she 
125 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

was  his  wife.  I  found  her  lying  on  the  floor 
in  the  milk-house  and  though  I  was  hurt,  and 
hard,  I  took  her  into  my  room — and  in  a  few 
hours  Stonie  was  born.  When  they  gave  him 
to  me,  so  little  and  helpless,  the  hurt  and  hard- 
ness all  melted  for  ever,  and  I  believed  her  and 
forgave  her  and  him.  I  never  rested  until  I 
made  him  come  back,  though  it  was  just  to  die. 
She  stayed  with  us  a  year — and  then  she  mar- 
ried Todd  Crabtree  and  moved  West.  They 
didn't  want  Stonie,  so  she  gave  him  to  me. 
When  my  heart  ached  so  I  couldn't  stand  it, 
there  was  always  Stonie  to  heal  it.  Do  you 
think  that  heartaches  are  sometimes  just  grow- 
ing pains  the  Lord  sends  when  He  thinks 
we  have  not  courage  enough?"  And  in  the 
moonlight  Rose  Mary's  tear-starred  eyes 
gleamed  softly  and  her  lovely  mouth  began 
to  flower  out  into  a  little  smile.  The  sunshine 
of  Rose  Mary's  nature  always  threw  a  bow 
through  her  tears  against  any  cloud  that  ap- 
peared on  her  horizon. 

126 


MOONLIGHT   AND    APPLE-BLOW 

"I  don't  believe  your  heart  ever  needed  any 
growing  pains,  Rose  Mary,  and  I  resent  each 
and  every  one,"  answered  Everett  in  a  low 
voice,  and  he  lifted  one  of  Rose  Mary's  strong 
slim  hands  and  held  it  close  for  a  moment  in 
both  his  warm  ones. 

"Oh,  but  it  did,"  she  answered,  curling  her 
fingers  around  his  like  a  child  grateful  for  a 
caress.  "I  was  romantic — and — and  intense, 
and  I  thought  of  it  as  a  castle  for — for  just 
one.  Now  it's  grown  into  a  wide,  wing-spread- 
ing, old  country  house  in  Harpeth  Valley,  with 
vines  over  the  gables  and  doves  up  under  the 
eaves.  And  in  it  I  keep  sunshiny  rooms  to 
shelter  all  the  folks  in  need  that  my  Master 
sends.  Yours — is  on  the  south  side — corner 
— don't  you  want  your  supper  now  ?" 


127 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  HONORABLE  GID 

'TW  TOW,  Amandy,  stick  them  jack-beans  in 
.L  il  the  ground  round  side  upwards.  Do 
you  want  'em  to  have  to  turn  over  to  sprout?" 
demanded  Miss  Lavinia,  as  she  stood  leaning 
on  her  crotched  stick  over  by  the  south  side  of 
the  garden  fence,  directing  the  planting  of  her 
favorite  vine  that  was  to  be  trained  along  the 
pickets  and  over  the  gate.  Little  Miss  Amanda, 
as  usual,  was  doing  her  best  to  carry  out  exactly 
the  behests  of  her  older  and  a  little  more  in- 
firm sister.  Miss  Amanda  was  possessed  of  a 
certain  amount  of  tottering  nimbleness  which 
she  put  at  the  disposal  of  Miss  Lavinia  at  all 
times  with  the  most  cheery  good-will.  Miss 
Amanda  was  of  the  order  of  little  sisters  who 
serve  and  Miss  Lavinia  belonged  to  the  sister- 
128 


THE    HONORABLE    GID 

hood  dominant  by  nature  and  by  the  consent  of 
Miss  Amanda  and  the  rest  of  her  family. 

"It's  such  a  long  row  I  don't  know  as  I'll 
hold  out  to  finish  it,  Sister  Viney,  if  I  have  to 
stop  to  finger  the  beans  in  such  a  way  as  that. 
But  I'll  try,"  answered  the  little  worker,  going 
on  sticking  the  beans  in  with  trembling  haste. 

"Let  me  help  you,  please,  Miss  Amanda,"  en- 
treated Everett,  who  had  come  out  to  watch  the 
bean  planting  with  the  intention  of  offering 
aid,  with  also  the  certainty  of  having  it  re- 
fused. 

"No,  young  man,"  answered  Miss  Lavinia 
promptly  and  decidedly.  "These  jack  beans 
must  be  set  in  by  a  hand  that  knows  'em.  We 
can't  run  no  risks  of  having  'em  to  fail  to  come 
up.  I  got  the  seed  of  'em  over  to  Springfield 
when  me  and  Mr.  Robards  was  stationed  there 
just  before  the  war.  Mr.  Robards  was  always 
fond  of  flowers,  and  these  jack  beans  in  spe- 
cial. He  was  such  a  proper  meek  man  and 
showed  so  few  likings  that  I  feel  like  I  oughter 
129 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

honor  this  one  by  growing  these  vines  in  plenty 
as  a  remembrance,  even  if  he  has  been  dead 
forty-odd  years." 

"Was  your  husband  a  minister?"  asked  Ev- 
erett in  a  voice  of  becoming  respect  to  the  meek 
Mr.  Robards,  though  he  be  demised  for  nearly 
half  a  century. 

"He  was  that,  and  a  proper,  saddlebags-rid- 
ing, torment-preaching  circuit  rider  before  he 
was  made  presiding  elder  at  an  astonishing 
early  age,"  answered  Miss  Lavinia,  a  fading 
fire  blazing  up  in  her  dark  eyes.  "He  saved 
many  a  sinner  in  Harpeth  Valley  by  preaching 
both  heaven  and  hell  in  their  fitten  places, 
what's  a  thing  this  younger  generation  don't 
know  how  to  do  any  more,  it  seems  like.  A 
sermon  that  sets  up  heaven  like  a  circus  tent, 
with  a  come-sinner-come-all  sign,  and  digs  hell 
no  deeper  than  Mill  Creek  swimming  pool,  as 
is  skeercely  over  a  boy's  middle,  ain't  no  ser- 
mon at  all  to  my  mind.  Most  preaching  in 
Sweetbriar  are  like  that  nowadays." 
130 


THE   HONORABLE   GID 

"But  Brother  Robards  had  a  mighty  sweet 
voice  and  he  gave  the  call  of  God's  love  so  as 
to  draw  answers  from  all  hearts,"  said  Miss 
Amanda  in  her  own  sweet  little  voice,  as  she 
jabbed  in  the  beans  with  her  right  hand  and 
drew  the  dirt  over  them  with  her  left. 

"Yes,  husband  was  a  little  inclined  to  preach 
from  Psalms  more'n  good  rousing  Proverbs, 
but  I  always  helt  him  to  the  main  meat  of  the 
Gospel  and  only  let  him  feed  the  flock  on  the 
sweets  of  fatith  in  proper  proportion,"  an- 
swered Miss  Lavinia,  with  an  echo  in  her  voice 
of  the  energy  expended  in  keeping  the  presid- 
ing elder  to  a  Jeremiah  rather  than  a  David 
role  in  his  ministry. 

"It  was  a  mighty  blow  to  the  Methodist 
Church  when  he  was  taken  away  so  young," 
said  Miss  Amanda  gently.  "I  know  I  said 
then  that  they  never  would  be — " 

"Lands  alive,  if  here  ain't  Miss  Viney  and 
Miss  Amandy  out  planting  the  jack  beans  and 
I  ain't  got  down  not  a  square  foot  of  summer 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

turnip  greens!"  exclaimed  a  hearty  voice  as 
Mrs.  Rucker  hurried  up  across  the  yard  to  the 
garden  gate.  "Now  I  know  I'm  a  behind- 
hander,  for  my  ground's  always  ready,  and  in 
go  the  greens  when  you  all  turn  spade  for  the 
bean  vines.  Are  you  a-looking  for  a  little  job 
of  plowing,  Mr.  Mark?  I'd  put  Mr.  Rucker 
at  it,  but  he  give  his  left  ankle  a  twist  yestidy 
and  have  had  to  be  kinder  quiet,  a-setting  on 
the  back  porch  or  maybe  a-hobbling  over  to  the 
store." 

"Yes,  I'll  plow,  if  you  don't  care  whether 
your  mule  or  plow  or  hame  strings  come  out 
alive,"  answered  Everett  with  a  laugh.  Miss 
Amanda  had  risen,  hurried  eagerly  over  to  her 
favorite  neighbor  and  held  out  her  hand  for 
the  pan  tendered  her. 

"Them's  your  sally  luns,  Miss  Amandy,  and 
they  are  a  good  chanst  if  I  do  say  it  myself.  I 
jest  know  you  and  Rose  Mary  have  got  on  the 
big  pot  and  little  kettle  for  Mr.  Newsome, 
and  I'm  mighty  proud  to  have  the  luns  handed 
132 


THE   HONORABLE   GID 

around  with  your  all's  fixings.  I  reckon  Rose 
Mary  is  so  comfusticated  you  can't  hardly  trust 
her  with  no  supper  rolls  or  such  like.  Have 
you  seen  him  yet,  Rose  Mary?"  she  asked  of 
Rose  Mary,  who  had  appeared  at  the  garden 
gate. 

"No;  I've  just  come  up  from  the  milk- 
house,"  answered  Rose  Mary  with  a  laughing 
blush.  "When  did  Mr.  Newsome  come?" 

"Just  now,"  answered  Mrs.  Rucker,  with 
further  banter  in  her  eyes.  "And  none  of  Solo- 
mon's lilies  in  all  they  glory  was  ever  arrayed 
like  one  of  him.  You  better  go  frill  yourself 
out,  Rose  Mary,  for  the  men  ain't  a-going  to 
be  able  to  hold  him  chavering  over  there  at  the 
store  very  long." 

"It  will  only  take  me  a  few  minutes  to  dress," 
answered  Rose  Mary,  with  a  continuation  of 
the  blush.  "The  Aunties  are  all  ready  for  sup- 
per, and  Stonie  and  Uncle  Tucker.  Mag  has 
got  everything  just  ready  to  dish  up,  and  I'll 
take  in  the  sally  luns  to  be  run  in  the  stove  at 
133 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

the  last  moment.  Isn't  it  lovely  to  have  com- 
pany? Friends  right  at  home  you  can  show 
your  liking  for  all  the  time,  but  you  must  be 
careful  to  save  their  share  for  the  others  to 
give  to  them  when  they  come.  Mr.  Mark,  don't 
you  want  to — " 

But  before  Rose  Mary  had  begun  her  sen- 
tence Mr.  Mark  Everett,  of  New  York  Gity, 
New  York,  was  striding  away  across  the  yard 
with  a  long  swing,  and  as  he  went  through  the 
front  gate  it  somehow  slipped  out  of  his  hand 
and  closed  itself  with  a  bang.  The  expression 
of  his  back  as  he  crossed  the  road  might  have 
led  one  versed  in  romantics  to  conclude  that  a 
half -unsheathed  sword  hung  at  his  side  and 
that  he  had  two  flintlocks  thrust  into  his  belt. 

And  over  at  the  store  he  found  himself  in 
the  midst  of  a  jubilation.  Mr.  Gideon  New- 
some,  of  Bolivar,  Tennessee,  stood  in  the  door- 
way, and  surrounding  him  in  the  store,  in  the 
doorway  and  on  the  porch  was  the  entire  mas- 
culine population  of  Sweetbriar. 
134 


THE    HONORABLE    GID 

Mr.  Newsome  was  tall  and  broad  and  well  on 
the  way  to  portliness.  His  limbs  were  massive 
and  slow  of  movement  and  his  head  large,  with 
a  mane  of  slightly  graying  hair  flung  back  from 
a  wide,  unfurrowed  brow.  Small  and  very  black 
eyes  pierced  out  from  crinkled  heavy  lids  and  a 
bulldog  jaw  shot  out  from  under  a  fat  beak  of  a 
nose.  And  over  the  broad  expanse  of  coun- 
tenance was  spread  a  smile  so  sweet,  so  deep, 
so  high  that  it  gave  the  impression  of  obscur- 
ing the  form  of  features  entirely.  In  point  of 
fact  it  was  a  thick  and  impenetrable  veil  that  the 
Senator  had  for  long  hung  before  his  face  from 
behind  which  to  view  the  world  at  large.  And 
through  his  mouth,  as  through  a  rent  in  the 
smile,  he  was  wont  to  pour  out  a  volume  of 
voice  as  musical  in  its  drawl  and  intensified 
southern  burr  as  the  bass  note  on  a  well-sea- 
soned 'cello. 

He  was  performing  the  obligate  of  a 
prohibition  hymn  for  the  group  of  farm- 
ers around  him  when  he  caught  sight  of 
135 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

Everett  as  he  came  across  the  street.  Instantly 
his  voice  was  lowered  to  a  honeyed  conversa- 
tional pitch  as  he  came  to  the  edge  of  the  porch 
and  held  out  a  large,  fat,  white  hand,  into 
which  Everett  laid  his  own  by  courtesy  per- 
forced. 

"I'm  delighted  to  see  you,  Mr.  Everett,  suh, 
delighted !"  he  boomed.  "And  in  such  evident 
improved  health.  I  inquired  for  you  at  Boli- 
var as  soon  as  I  returned  and  I  was  informed 
that  you  had  come  over  here  to  find  perfect  res- 
toration to  health  in  the  salubrious  climate  of 
this  wonderful  town  of  Sweetbriar.  I'm  glad 
to  see  your  looks  confirm  the  answer  to  my 
anxious  inquiries.  And  is  all  well  with  you?" 

"Thank  you,  Senator,  I'm  in  pretty  good 
shape  again,"  answered  Everett  with  a  coun- 
ter smile.  "Ten  pounds  on  and  I'm  in  fighting 
trim."  The  words  were  said  pleasantly,  but  for 
the  life  of  him  Everett  could  not  control  the 
hostility  of  a  quick  glance  that  apparently 
struck  harmlessly  against  the  veil  of  smiles. 
136 


THE   HONORABLE    GID 

"That  there  ten  pounds  had  oughter  be 
twenty,  Senator,  at  the  rate  of  the  Alloway 
feeding  of  him,  from  milk-house  to  cellar  pre- 
serve shelf,"  said  Mr.  Crabtree  from  behind 
the  counter  where  he  was  doing  up  a  pound  of 
tea  for  the  poet,  who  found  it  impossible  to 
take  his  eyes  off  the  politician.  "Miss  Rose 
Mary  ain't  give  me  a  glass  of  buttermilk  for 
more'n  a  week,  and  they  do  say  she  has  to  keep 
a  loaf  handy  in  the  milk-house  to  feed  him 
'fore  he  gets  as  far  as  Miss  Amandy  and  the 
kitchen.  We're  going  to  run  him  in  a  fatten- 
ing race  with  Mis'  Rucker's  fancy  red  hog 
she's  gitting  ready  for  the  State  Fair  and  the 
new  Poteet  baby,  young  Master  Tucker  Poteet 
of  Sweetbriar." 

"So  there's  a  new  Poteet  young  man,  and 
named  for  my  dear  friend,  Mr.  Alloway !  My 
congratulations,  Mr.  Poteet !"  exclaimed  the  sen- 
ator as  he  pumped  the  awkward,  horny  hand 
of  the  embarrassed  but  proud  Mr.  Poteet  up 
and  down  as  if  it  were  the  handle  of  the  town 
137 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

pump.  "I  must  be  sure  to  have  an  introduction 
to  the  young  man.  Want  to  meet  all  the 
voters,"  he  added,  shaking  out  the  smile  veil 
with  energy. 

And  at  this  very  opportune  moment  he 
looked  down  the  Road  and  espied  a  procession 
of  presentation  approaching.  The  General  in 
the  midst  of  the  Swarm  was  coming  at  a  break- 
neck speed  and  clasped  firmly  in  his  arms  he 
held  a  small  blue  bundle.  On  his  right  gal- 
loped Tobe  with  Shoofly  swung  at  her  usual 
dangerous  angle  on  his  hip,  and  Jennie  Rucker 
supported  his  left  wing,  with  stumbling  Petie 
pulled  along  between  her  hand  and  that  of 
small  Peggy.  Around  and  behind  swarmed 
the  rest  of  the  Poteet  seven,  the  Ruckers  and 
the  Nickols,  with  Mrs.  Sniffer  and  the  five  lit- 
tle dogs  bringing  up  the  rear. 

"Well,  well,  and  what  have  we  here?"  ex- 
claimed the  great  man  as  he  descended  and 
stood  in  front  of  the  lined-up  cohorts. 

"It's  the  Poteet  baby,"  answered  the  Gen- 
138 


THE    HONORABLE   GID 

eral  with  precision.  "We  bringed  him  to  show 
you.  He's  going  to  be  a  boy ;  they  can't  noth- 
ing change  him  now.  Shoofly  is  a  girl,  but 
Mis'  Poteet  didn't  fool  us  this  time.  Besides 
if  he'd  been  a  girl  we  wouldn't  a-had  him  for 
nothing." 

"Why,  young  man,  you  don't  mean  to  dis- 
credit the  girls,  do  you?"  demanded  the  Sen- 
ator with  a  gallantly  propitiating  glance  in  the 
direction  of  Jennie,  Peggy  and  the  rest  of  the 
bunch  of  assorted  pink  and  blue  little  calico 
petticoats.  "Why  could  anything  be  finer  than 
a  sweet  little  girl  ?"  And  as  he  spoke  he  rested 
his  hand  on  Jennie's  tow-pigtailed  head. 

"Well,  what's  sweet  got  to  do  with  it  if 
we've  got  too  many  of  'em?"  answered  the 
General  in  his  usual  argumentative  tone.  "Till 
little  Tucker  corned  they  was  three  more  girls 
than  they  was  boys,  and  it  wasn't  fair.  Now 
they  is  just  two  more,  and  four  of  Sniffie's  pup- 
pies is  boys,  so  that  makes  it  most  even  until 
another  one  comes,  what'll  just  have  to  be  a 
139 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

boy."  And  the  General  cast  a  threatening 
glance  in  the  direction  of  the  calico  bunch  as 
he  issued  this  ultimatum  to  feminine  Sweet- 
briar. 

"I'll  ask  Maw,"  murmured  Jennie  bash- 
fully, but  Miss  Peggy  turned  up  her  small 
nose  and  switched  her  short  skirts  scornfully 
as  the  men  on  the  porch  laughed  and  the  Sen- 
ator emitted  a  very  roar  in  his  booming  bass. 

"Well,  well,  we'll  have  to  settle  that  later," 
he  said  in  his  most  propitiating  urge-voter 
voice  as  he  cast  a  smile  over  the  entire  Swarm. 
"Hadn't  you  better  carry  the  young  man  back 
to  his  mother?  He  seems  to  be  restless,"  he  fur- 
ther remarked,  taking  advantage  of  a  slight 
squirm  in  which  young  Tucker  indulged  him- 
self, though  he  was  not  at  all  uncomfortable  in 
Stonie's  arms,  accustomed  as  he  was  to  being 
transported  in  any  direction  at  any  time  by  any 
one  of  his  confreres.  And  with  this  skilful  hint 
of  dismissal  the  Senator  bent  down  and  be- 
stowed the  imperative  political  kiss  on  the  little 
140 


THE   HONORABLE   GID 

pink  Poteet  head,  smattered  one  or  two  over 
Shoofly  and  Pete,  landed  one  on  the  tip  of  Jen- 
nie Rucker's  little  freckled  nose  and  started 
them  all  up  the  Road  in  good  order  as  he  turned 
once  more  to  the  men  in  the  store. 

But  the  advent  of  the  Swarm  had  served  to 
remind  the  group  of  his  friends  that  the  time 
for  the  roof-tree  gathering  was  fast  approach- 
ing, and  Mr.  Crabtree  was  busy  filling  half- for- 
gotten supper  orders  for  impatient  waiters, 
while  most  of  the  men  had  gone  up  or  down 
the  Road  in  the  wake  of  the  scattering  Swarm. 
For  a  few  minutes  the  Senator  and  Everett 
were  left  on  the  porch  steps  alone. 

"I  hear  from  some  of  the  men  that  you  have 
been  able  to  do  some  prospecting  in  the  last 
weeks,  Mr.  Everett,"  remarked  the  Senator 
casually  from  behind  the  veil,  as  he  accepted 
and  lighted  a  cigar. 

"Just  knocked  around  a  bit,"  answered  Ev- 
erett carelessly.  "The  whole  Mississippi  Val- 
ley is  interesting  geologically.  There  is  quite 
141 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

a  promise  of  oil  here,  but  practically  no  out- 
crop." 

"Your  examination  been  pretty  thorough — 
professional?"  queried  the  Senator,  still  in  an 
equally  careless  voice,  though  his  little  eyes 
gleamed  out  of  their  slits. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  thrashed  it  all  out,  especially  Mr. 
Alloway's  place.  I'd  like  to  have  found  oil 
for  him — and  the  rest  of  Sweetbriar,  too,  but 
it  isn't  here."  Everett  spoke  decidedly,  and 
there  was  a  note  in  his  voice  as  if  to  end  the 
discussion.  His  own  eyes  he  kept  down  on 
his  cigar  and,  as  he  lounged  against  a  post  he 
had  an  air  of  being  slightly  bored  by  an  unin- 
teresting shop  topic.  The  Senator  looked  at 
him  a  few  seconds  keenly,  started  to  make  a 
trivial  change  in  the  conversation,  then  made 
a  flank  movement,  bent  toward  Everett  and 
began  to  speak  in  a  suave  and  most  confiden- 
tial manner. 

"I'm  sorry,  too,  you  didn't  find  the  oil  on 
the  old  gentleman's  place,"  he  said  in  his  most 
142 


THE   HONORABLE   GID 

open  and  dulcet  tones.  "I  am  very  fond  of 
Mr.  Alloway ;  I  may  say  of  the  whole  family. 
Farming  is  too  hard  work  for  him  at  his  years 
and  I  would  have  liked  for  him  to  have  had  the 
ease  of  an  increased  income.  Some  time  ago 
a  phosphate  expert  examined  these  regions, 
but  reported  nothing  worth  working.  I  had 
more  hope  of  the  oil.  As  I  say,  I  am  interested 
in  Mr.  Alloway  and  the  family — I  may  say  it 
to  you  in  confidence,  particularly  interested  in 
one  of  the  members."  And  the  smile  that  the 
Senator  bestowed  upon  Everett  aroused  a  keen 
desire  for  murder  in  the  first  degree.  There 
was  a  challenge  and  a  warning  in  it  and  a  cun- 
ning, too,  that  was  deeper  than  both.  Con- 
trolling his  impulse  to  smash  the  Senatorial 
bulldog  jaw,  Everett's  mind  went  instantly 
after  the  cunning. 

"So  you  only  got  the  phosphate  in  your  ex- 
amination report  of  the  Alloway  place?"  he 
asked  in  a  friendly,  interested  tone,  as  if  the 
hint  had  failed  to  make  a  landing.  The  cun- 

143 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

ning  in  his  own  glance  and  tone  he  was  shrewd 
enough  to  hide. 

"That  was  about  all — nothing  that  was 
worth  taking  up  then,"  answered  the  Senator 
again  carelessly,  and  at  that  moment  Mr.  Crab- 
tree  came  out  to  join  them. 

In  a  few  minutes  Everett  threw  away  his 
cigar,  glanced  across  at  the  Briars,  where  he 
could  see  Rose  Mary  and  Uncle  Tucker  estab- 
lishing Miss  Lavinia,  in  her  high  company  cap, 
in  the  big  chair  on  the  front  porch,  and  with- 
out a  word  he  strode  out  the  back  door  of  the 
store  and  across  the  fields  toward  Boliver.  He 
stopped  at  the  Rucker  side  fence  and  entrusted 
a  message  to  the  willing  Jenny,  and  then  went 
on  into  the  twilight  in  the  direction  of  the  lights 
of  the  distant  town. 

And  as  he  walked  along  his  mood  was,  to 
say  the  least,  savage,  and  he  cut,  with  a  long 
switch  he  had  picked  up,  at  some  nodding  little 
wind  bells  that  had  begun  to  show  their  colors 
along  the  side  of  the  road.  He  was  hungry 
144 


THE    HONORABLE   GID 

and  he  was  having  his  supper  in  detached  vis- 
ions. Now  Rose  Mary  was  handing  the  Sen- 
ator a  plate  of  high-piled  supper  rolls,  each 
with  a  golden  stream  of  butter  cascading  down 
the  side,  and  as  her  lovely  bare  arm  held  them 
across  to  the  guest  probably  she  was  helping 
Stonie's  plate  with  her  other  hand  to  a  spoon- 
ful of  cream  gravy  over  his  nicely  browned 
chicken  leg.  On  her  side  of  the  table  Miss  La- 
vinia  was  pouring  the  rich  cream  over  her  bowl 
of  steaming  mush  and  the  materialized  aroma 
from  Uncle  Tucker's  cup  of  coffee  that  Rose 
Mary  had  just  poured  him  brought  tears  to 
Everett's  eyes.  Then  came  a  flash  of  Aunt 
Amandy  helping  herself  under  Rose  Mary's 
urging  to  a  second  crisp  waffle,  and  the  Senator 
was  preparing  to  accept  his  sixth,  impelled  by 
the  same  solicitous  smile  that  had  landed  the 
second  on  the  little  old  lady's  plate.  Again  Rose 
Mary  was  pouring  the  Senator's  second  cup 
and  stirring  in  the  cream.  If  she  had  lifted  the 
spoon  to  her  lips,  as  she  always  did  with  Uncle 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

Tucker's  and  sometimes  forgot  and  did  with 
his,  Everett  would  have —  And  at  this  point 
he  turned  the  bend  and  ran  smash  into  the 
dramatic  scene  of  a  romance. 

Seated  by  the  side  of  the  road  was  Louisa 
Helen  Plunkett,  and  before  her  stood  young 
Bob  Nickols,  an  agony  of  helplessness  show- 
ing in  every  line  of  his  face  and  big  loose- 
jointed  figure,  for  Louisa  Helen  was  weeping 
into  a  handkerchief  and  one  of  her  blue  muslin 
sleeves.  And  it  was  not  a  series  of  sentimental 
sobs  and  sighs  or  controlled  and  effective  sniffs 
in  which  Louisa  Helen  was  indulging,  but  she 
was  boo-hooing  in  good  earnest  with  real  chok- 
ings  and  gurgles  of  sobs.  Bob  was  screwing 
the  toe  of  his  boot  into  the  dust  and  saying 
and  doing  absolutely  and  desperately  nothing. 

"Why,  Louisa  Helen,  what  is  the  matter?" 
demanded  Everett  as  he  seated  himself  beside 
the  wailer  and  endeavored  to  bring  down  the 
pitch  of  the  sobs  by  a  kindly  pat  on  the  heav- 
ing shoulder. 

146 


THE   HONORABLE   GID 

"What's  happened,  Bob?"  he  demanded  of 
the  silent  and  dejected  lover,  who  only  shook 
his  head  as  he  answered  from  the  depths  of 
confusion. 

"I  don't  know;  she  just  of  a  sudden  flung 
down  and  began  to  hollow  and  I  ain't  never 
got  her  to  say." 

"Oh,  I  want  a  supper  and  a  veil  and  a  bo- 
kay !"  came  in  a  perfect  howl  from  the  folds  of 
the  sleeve. 

"I  want  some  supper,  too,  Louisa  Helen," 
said  Everett  quickly,  and  a  smile  lifted  the  cor- 
ners of  his  mouth  as  the  situation  began  to  un- 
ravel itself  to  his  sympathetic  concern.  "I 
guess  I  could  take  the  bouquet  and  veil,  too," 
he  added  to  himself  in  an  undertone. 

"I  ain't  a-going  to  let  Maw  insult  Bob  no 
more,  but  I  don't  want  no  Boliver  wedding 
in  the  office  of  no  hotel.  I  want  to  be  married 
where  folks  can  look  at  me,  and  have  some- 
thing good  to  eat,  and  throw  old  shoes  and  rice 
at  me,"  came  in  a  more  constrained  and  con- 
147 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

nected  flow,  as  the  poor  little  fugitive  raised  her 
head  from  her  arm  and  reached  down  to  settle 
her  skirts  about  her  ankles,  from  which  she  had 
flirted  them  in  the  kicks  of  one  of  her  most 
violent  paroxysms.  Louisa  Helen  was  very 
young  and  just  as  pretty  as  she  was  young. 
She  was  rosy  and  dimpled  and  had  absurd  little 
baby  curls  trailing  down  over  her  eyes,  and  her 
tears  had  no  more  effect  on  her  face  than  a 
summer  shower. 

"Why,  what  did  your  mother  say  to  Bob?" 
asked  Everett,  thus  drawn  into  the  position  of 
arbitrator  between  two  family  factions. 

"She  told  him  that  Jennie  Rucker  would  be 
about  his  frying  size  when  he  got  old  enough 
to  pick  a  wife,  and  it  hurt  his  feelings  so  he 
didn't  come  to  see  me  for  a  week,  and  he  says 
he  ain't  never  coming  no  more.  If  I  want  him 
I  will  have  to  go  over  to  Boliver  and  marry 
him  to-morrow."  A  sob  began  to  rise  again 
in  the  poor  little  bride  prospective's  throat  at 
the  thought  of  the  horrible  Boliver  wedding. 
148 


THE    HONORABLE    GID 

The  autocrat  shifted  uneasily,  and  in  the  dusk 
Everett  could  see  that  he  was  completely 
melted  and  ready  to  surrender  his  position  if 
he  could  only  find  the  line  of  retreat. 

"Well,"  said  Everett  judicially,  as  he  looked 
up  at  Bob  with  a  wink,  which  was  answered 
by  the  slightest  beginning  of  laugh  from  the 
insulted  one,  "I  don't  believe  Bob  wants  to  do 
without  that  bouquet  and  veil  and  supper 
either.  They  are  just  the  greatest  things  that 
ever  happen  to  a  man" — another  wink  at  Bob 
— "and  Bob  don't  want  to  give  them  up.  Now 
suppose  you  go  on  back  home  to-night  and 
don't  say  anything  to  your  mother  about  the 
matter,  and  to-morrow  I'll  ask  Mr.  Crabtree 
to  step  over  and  make  it  up  with  Bob  for  her.  I 
feel  sure  she'll  invite  them  both  in  to  supper, 
and  then  sometime  soon  we  can  all  discuss  the 
veil-bouquet  question.  You  aren't  in  a  hurry, 
are  you  ?" 

"Naw,"  answered  Bob  promptly.  "Me  and 
Paw  ain't  got  all  the  winter  wheat  in  yet,  and 
149 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

we've   got  to   cut   clover  next  week.     We're 
mighty  busy  now.    I  ain't  in  no  hurry." 

"And  I  don't  want  to  get  married  no  way 
except  when  the  briar  roses  is  in  bloom  so  I  can 
have  the  church  tucked  out  in  'em.  And  I've 
got  to  get  some  pretty  clothes  made,  too,"  an- 
swered Louisa  Helen,  thus  putting  in  direct 
contrast  the  feminine  and  masculine  attitude 
towards  nuptials  in  general  and  also  in  par- 
ticular. 

"Then  go  on  back  home,  you  two,"  said  Ev- 
erett with  a  laugh,  as  he  rose  to  his  feet  and 
drew  to  hers  the  now  smiling  Louisa  Helen. 
"And  I  predict  that  by  the  time  the  briar  roses 
are  out  something  will  happen  to  make  it  all 
right.  Put  your  faith  in  Mr.  Crabtree,  I  should 
advise.  I  suspect  that  he  has — er  influence 
with  your  mother."  A  giggle  from  Louisa 
Helen  and  a  guffaw  from  Bob,  as  the  two 
young  people  started  on  back  along  the  Road, 
showed  that  they  had  both  appreciated  his 
veiled  sally. 

150 


THE    HONORABLE   GID 

And  as  he  stood  watching  them  out  of  sight 
down  the  Road  the  twilight  faded  from  off  the 
Valley  and  darkness  came  down  in  a  starlit  veil 
from  over  old  Harpeth.  Everett  climbed  up 
and  seated  himself  on  the  top  rail  of  the  fence 
and  again  gave  himself  over  to  his  moods. 
This  time  one  of  bitterness,  almost  anger,  rose 
to  the  surface.  The  same  old  wheel  grinding 
out  here  in  the  wilderness  that  he  had  left  in 
the  market  places  of  the  world.  The  vision  he 
had  caught  of  the  great  cycle  being  turned  by 
some  still  greater  source  above  the  hills  was — 
a  vision.  The  wheels  ground  on  with  the  vic- 
tims strapped  and  the  cogs  dripping.  Loot  and 
the  woman — loot  and  the  woman !  And  he  had 
thought  that  out  here  "in  the  hollow  of  His 
hand"  he  had  lost  the  sound  of  that  grind.  And 
such  a  woman — the  lovely  gracious  thing  with 
the  unfaithful,  dishonored  lover's  child  in  her 
arms,  other  women's  tumbling  children  cling- 
ing to  her  skirts  and  with  hands  outstretched 
to  protect  and  comfort  the  old  gray  heads  in 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

her  care !  A  woman  with  a  sorrow  in  her  heart 
but  with  eyes  that  were  deep  blue  pools  in 
which  there  mirrored  loves  for  all  her  little 
world!  For  a  long  time  he  sat  and  looked 
out  into  the  darkness,  then  suddenly  he 
squared  his  shoulders,  gripped  the  rail  tight 
in  his  hands  for  a  half  second  and  then  slipped 
to  the  ground.  Picking  up  his  switch  he  turned 
and  strode  off  toward  Sweetbriar,  which  by 
this  time  was  a  little  handful  of  fireflys  glow- 
ing down  in  the  sweet  meadows. 

When  he  got  as  far  as  the  blacksmith's  shop 
Everett  climbed  the  wall  and  approached  the 
house  through  the  garden,  for  in  front  of  the 
store  had  been  piled  high  a  bonfire  of  empty 
boxes  and  dry  wood  boughs,  and  most  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Sweetbriar,  small  fry  and  large, 
were  assembled  in  jocular  groups  around  its 
blaze  of  light.  He  could  see  Mr.  Crabtree  and 
Bob  rolling  out  an  empty  barrel  to  serve  as  a 
speaking  stand  for  the  Honorable  Gid,  who 
stood  in  the  foreground  in  front  of  the  store 
152 


THE    HONORABLE   GID 

steps  talking  to  Uncle  Tucker,  with  an  admir- 
ing circle  around  him.  Horses  and  wagons 
and  buggies  were  hitched  at  various  posts  along 
the  road,  which  indicated  the  gathering  of  a 
small  crowd  from  neighboring  towns  to  hear 
the  coming  oration,  and  the  front  porch  of  the 
store  presented  a  scene  of  unwonted  excite- 
ment. 

Everett  clicked  the  garden  gate  and  steered 
around  to  the  back  door  of  the  kitchen  in  hopes 
of  finding  black  Mag  still  at  her  post  and  beg- 
ging of  her  a  glass  of  milk  and  a  biscuit.  But 
as  he  stood  in  the  doorway,  instead  of  Mag  he 
discovered  Rose  Mary  with  her  white  skirts 
tucked  up  under  one  of  her  long  kitchen  aprons, 
putting  the  final  polishing  touch  to  a  shining 
pile  of  dishes.  She  looked  up  at  him  for  a  sec- 
ond, and  then  went  on  with  her  work,  and 
Everett  could  see  that  her  curled  lips  were 
trembling  like  a  hurt  child's. 

"I — I  thought  I  might  get  a  bite  of  some- 
thing from — from  Mag  if  she  hadn't  left — the 

153 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

kitchen — I — I — "  Everett  hesitated  on  the 
threshold  and  in  speech.  "I — I  am  sorry  to 
trouble  you,"  he  finished  lamely. 

"I  don't  believe  you  care — care  if  you  do," 
answered  Rose  Mary,  and  her  blue  eyes  showed 
a  decided  temper  spark  under  their  black  lashes. 
"I  see  I  made  a  mistake  in  expecting  anything 
of  you.  A  friend's  fingers  ought  not  to  slip 
through  yours  when  you  need  them  to  hold 
tight.  But  come,  get  your  supper — " 

"Please,  Rose  Mary,  I'm  most  awfully 
ashamed,"  he  said  as  he  came  and  stood  close 
beside  her,  and  there  was  a  note  in  his  voice 
that  fairly  startled  him  with  its  tenderness. 
"I'm  just  a  cross  old  bear,  and  I  don't  deserve 
anything,  no  supper  and  no — no  Rose  Mary  to 
care  whether  I'm  hungry  or  not  and  no — " 

"But  I  put  the  supper  up,"  said  Rose  Mary, 
with  a  little  laugh  and  catch  in  her  voice.  "I 
couldn't  let  you  be  hungry,  even  if  you  did  treat 
me  that  way." 

"Didn't  Jennie  Rucker  come  to  tell  you  I 
154 


THE   HONORABLE   GID 

couldn't  get  here  to  supper?"  asked  Everett 
with  what  he  felt  to  be  a  contemptible  feint 
of  defense. 

"Yes,  she  came ;  but  you  knew  we  were  go- 
ing to  have  company  and  that  I  wanted  you  to 
be  here.  You  know  Mr.  Newsome  is  the  best 
friend  we  have  in  the  world  and  your  staying 
away  meant  that  you  didn't  care  if  he  had  been 
good  to  us.  It  hurt  me !  And  the  first  bowl  of 
lilacs  was  on  the  table ;  I  had  been  saving  them 
for  a  surprise  for  you  for  two  days,  and  every- 
thing was  so  good  and  just  as  you  like  it 
and — "  Rose  Mary's  voice  faltered  again  and 
a  little  tear  splashed  on  the  saucer  she  held 
poised  in  her  hand. 

"Well,"  answered  Everett,  like  a  sulky  boy, 
"I  didn't  want  any  of  the  Honorable  Gid  New- 
some's  lilacs  or  waffles  or  fried  chicken,  and  I 
didn't  want  to  see  you  fix  any  coffee  for  him," 
he  ended  by  blurting  out. 

"I  didn't — I — that  is — you  are  horrid/'  an- 
swered Rose  Mary,  but  she  raised  her  eyes  to 
155 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

his  in  which  smiles  waltzed  around  with  tears 
and  the  glint  of  her  white  teeth  showed  through 
red  lips  curling  with  laugh  that  was  forcing 
itself  over  them  by  way  of  the  dimple  in  the 
corner  of  her  chin.  "Anyway,  what  I  have 
here  on  the  top  of  the  stove  is  your  waffles 
and  your  fried  chicken,  and  these  are  your  li- 
lacs," and  she  drew  out  a  purple  spray  from 
her  belt  and  dropped  it  on  the  table  beside  him. 
"Sit  down  and  I'll  give  it  all  to  you  right  here 
while  I  finish  wiping  the  dishes.  Mag  was 
taken  with  a  spell  before  supper  was  over  and 
had  to  go  lie  down  and  I  stayed  to  finish  things 
while  the  others  went  over  to  the  speaking,"  she 
added  as  she  began  to  bustle  about  with  her 
usual  hospitable  concern. 

"You  are  an  angel,  Rose  Mary  Alloway," 
said  Everett  as  he  placed  himself  on  a  split- 
bottom  kitchen  chair,  bestowed  his  long  legs 
under  the  table  and  drew  up  as  near  to  Rose 
Mary  and  her  dish-towel  as  was  possible  to  be 
sure  of  keeping  out  of  the  flirt.  "And  I — 
156 


THE    HONORABLE   GID 

I'm  a  brute,"  he  added  contritely,  though  he 
dared  a  quick  kiss  on  the  bare  arm  next  and 
close  to  him. 

"No,  you're  not — just  a  boy,"  answered 
Rose  Mary,  as  she  set  his  supper  on  the  table  be- 
fore him.  She  had  poured  his  coffee,  stirred  in 
the  cream  and  sugar  and  then  laid  the  spoon  de- 
corous and  straight  in  the  saucer  beside  the  cup. 
For  an  instant  Everett  sat  very  still  and  looked 
at  her,  then  she  picked  up  the  cup  and  tipped 
it  against  her  lips,  sipped  judiciously  and  set 
it  down  with  a  satisfied  air.  For  just  a  second 
her  eyes  had  gleamed  down  at  him  over  the 
edge  of  the  cup  and  a  tiny  laugh  gurgled  in  her 
throat  as  she  swallowed  her  sip  of  his  beverage. 

"That  was  mine,  anyway — he  can  have  his 
chicken  wings,"  said  Everett  with  a  laugh  as 
he  began  operations  on  the  food  before  him. 

"It  wasn't  a  very  nice  party,"  answered  Rose 

Mary  as  she  went  on  with  her  work  on  the  pile 

of  china.    "Stonie  acted  awfully.    He  piled  up 

his  plate  with  pieces  of  chicken,   and  when 

157 


Aunt  Viney  reproved  him  he  said  he  was  sav- 
ing it  for  you.  And  Aunt  Viney  said  she  was 
sure  you  were  sick,  and  then  Uncle  Tucker 
wanted  to  go  look  for  you  and  I  had  to  tell 
him  before  them  all  that  you  had  sent  me  word. 
Then  Aunt  Amandy  said  she  was  afraid  you 
were  not  a  Prohibitionist,  and  Aunt  Viney  said 
she  would  have  to  talk  to  you  in  the  morning. 
Then  they  all  told  Mr.  Newsome  all  about  you, 
and  I  don't  think  he  liked  it  much  because  he 
likes  to  tell  us  things  about  himself.  We  are  so 
fond  of  him,  and  we  always  want  to  hear  him 
talk  about  where  he  has  been  and  what  he  has 
done.  I  tried  to  stop  them  and  make  him  talk, 
but  I  couldn't.  It's  strange  how  liking  a  person 
gets  them  on  your  mind  so  that  even  if  you 
don't  talk  about  them  you  think  about  them  all 
the  time,  isn't  it  ?  But  I  oughtn't  to  blame  them, 
for  I  was  so  afraid  they  wouldn't  leave  enough 
of  things  for  you  that  I  forgot  to  talk  myself. 
I  was  glad  Stonie  acted  that  way  about  the 
chicken,  for  the  piece  he  saved  made  three 
158 


THE   HONORABLE   GID 

pieces  of  white  meat  for  you.  Oh,  please  let's 
hurry,  because  we  will  miss  the  speaking  if  we 
don't.  Mr.  Newsome  makes  such  beautiful 
speeches  that  I  want  you  to  hear  him.  Is  there 
any  kind  of  pride  in  the  world  like  that  you 
have  over  your  friends  ?" 


159 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  ENEMY,  THE  ROD  AND  THE  STAFF 

AND  the  days  that  followed  the  Senator's 
prohibition  rally  at  Sweetbriar  were 
those  of  carnival  for  jocund  spring  all  up  and 
down  Providence  Road  and  out  over  the  Val- 
ley. Rugged  old  Harpeth  began  to  be  crowned 
with  wreaths  of  tender  green  and  pink  which 
trailed  down  its  sides  in  garlands  that  spread 
themselves  out  over  meadow  and  farm  away 
beyond  the  river  bend.  Overnight,  rows  of 
jonquils  in  Mrs.  Poteet's  straggling  little  gar- 
den lifted  up  golden  candlestick  heads  to  be  de- 
capitated at  an  early  hour  and  transported  in 
tight  little  bunches  in  dirty  little  fists  to  those 
of  the  neighbors  whose  spring  flowers  had 
failed  to  open  at  such  an  early  date.  In  spite 
of  what  seemed  an  open  neglect,  the  Poteet 
160 


THE  ENEMY,  ROD  AND  STAFF 

flowers  were  always  more  prolific  and  ad- 
vanced than  any  others  along  the  Road,  much 
to  the  pride  of  the  equally  prolific  and  spring- 
blooming  Mrs.  Poteet.  And  in  a  spirit  of  na- 
ture's accord  the  white  poet's  narcissus  showed 
starry  flowers  to  the  early  sun  in  the  greatest 
abundance  along  the  Poteet  fence  that  bor- 
dered on  the  Rucker  yard.  They  peeped 
through  the  pickets,  and  who  knows  what  chal- 
lenge they  flung  to  the  poetic  soul  of  Mr.  Caleb 
Rucker  as  he  sat  on  the  side  porch  with  his 
stockinged  feet  up  on  a  chair  and  his  nose  tilted 
to  an  angle  of  ecstatic  inhalation? 

Down  at  the  Plunketts  the  early  wistaria 
vine  that  garlanded  the  front  porch  hung  thick 
with  long  purple  clusters  which  dropped  con- 
tinually little  bouquets  of  single  blossoms  with 
perfect  impartiality  on  the  head  of  widow  and 
maid,  as  the  compromise  of  entertaining  both 
young  Bob  and  Mr.  Crabtree  at  the  same  time 
was  carried  out  by  Louisa  Helen.  And  often 
with  the  most  absolute  unconsciousness  the 
161 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

demure  little  widow  allowed  herself  to  be 
drawn  by  the  wily  Mr.  Crabtree  into  the  mystic 
circle  of  three,  which  was  instantly  on  her  ap- 
pearance dissolved  into  clumps  of  two.  And 
if  the  prodigal  vine  showered  blessings  down 
upon  a  pair  of  clasped  hands  hid  beside  Lou- 
isa Helen's  fluffy  pink  muslin  skirts  nobody 
was  the  wiser,  except  perhaps  Mr.  Crabtree. 

And  perched  on  the  side  of  the  hill  the  Briars 
found  itself  in  a  perfect  avalanche  of  blossoms. 
The  snowballs  hung  white  and  heavy  from 
long  branches,  and  gorgeous  lilac  boughs  bent 
and  swayed  in  the  wind.  A  clump  of  bridal 
wreath  by  the  front  gate  was  a  great  white 

drift   against   the  new  green  of  a  crimson- 

i 
starred  burning  bush,  while  over  it  all  trailed 

the  perfume-laden  honeysuckle  which  bowered 
the  front  porch,  decorated  trellis  and  trees  and 
finally  flung  its  blossoms  down  the  hill  to  well- 
nigh  cloister  Rose  Mary's  milk-house. 

One  balmy  afternoon  Everett  brushed  aside 
a  spray  of  the  pink  and  white  blossoms  and 
162 


THE    ENEMY,    ROD    AND    STAFF 

stood  in  the  stone  doorway  with  his  prospect- 
ing kit  in  his  hands.  Rose  Mary  lifted  quick 
welcoming  eyes  to  his  and  went  on  with  her 
work  with  bowl  and  paddle.  Everett  had  some 
time  since  got  to  the  point  where  it  was  well- 
nigh  impossible  for  him  to  look  directly  into 
Rose  Mary's  deep  eyes,  quaff  a  draft  of  the 
tenderness  that  he  always  found  offered  him 
and  keep  equanimity  enough  to  go  on  with  the 
affairs  in  hand.  What  business  had  a  woman's 
eyes  to  be  so  filled  with  a  young  child's  inno- 
cence, a  violet's  shyness,  a  passion  of  fostering 
gentleness,  mirth  that  ripples  like  the  surface 
of  the  crystal  pools,  and — could  it  be  dawning 
— love?  Everett  had  been  in  a  state  of  uncer- 
tainty and  misery  so  abject  that  it  hid  itself 
under  an  unusually  casual  manner  that  had  for 
weeks  kept  Rose  Mary  from  suspecting  tp  the 
least  degree  the  condition  of  his  mind.  There 
is  a  place  along  the  way  in  the  pilgrimage  to 
the  altar  of  Love,  when  the  god  takes  on  an 
awe-inspiring  phase  which  makes  a  man  hide 

163 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

his  eyes  in  his  hands  with  fear  of  the  most 
abject.  At  such  times  with  her  lamp  of  faith 
a  woman  goes  on  ahead  and  lights  the  way  for 
both,  but  while  Rose  Mary's  flame  burned 
strongly,  her  unconsciousness  was  profound. 

"I'm  so  glad  you  came,"  she  said  with  the 
usual  rose  signal  to  him  in  her  cheeks.  "I've 
been  wondering  where  you  were  and  just  a 
little  bit  uneasy  about  you.  Mr.  Newsome  has 
been  here  and  wants  to  see  you.  He  stayed 
to  dinner  and  waited  for  you  for  two  hours. 
Stonie  and  Tobe  and  all  the  others  looked  for 
you.  I  know  you  are  hungry.  Will  you  have 
a  drink  of  milk  before  I  go  with  you  to  get 
your  dinner  I  saved  ?" 

"What  did  the  Honorable  Gid  want  ?"  asked 
Everett,  and  there  was  a  strange  excitement  in 
his  eyes  as  he  laid  his  hand  quickly  on  a  small, 
irregular  bundle  of  stones  that  bulged  out  of 
his  kit.  His  voice  had  a  sharp  ring  in  it  as  he 
asked  his  question. 

"Oh,  I  think  he  just  wanted  to  see  you  be- 
164 


THE    ENEMY,    ROD    AND    STAFF 

cause  he  likes  you,"  answered  Rose  Mary  with 
one  of  her  lifted  glances  and  quick  smiles.  "A 
body  can  take  their  own  liking  for  two  other 
people  and  use  it  as  a  good  strong  rope  just 
to  pull  them  together  sometimes.  I'm  awfully 
fond  of  Mr.  Newsome — and  you,"  she  added 
as  she  came  over  from  one  of  the  crocks  with 
Peter  Rucker's  blue  cup  brimming  with  ice  cold 
cream  in  her  hand  and  offered  it  to  Everett. 

Instead  of  taking  the  cup  from  her  Everett 
clasped  his  fingers  around  her  slender  wrist  in 
the  fashion  of  young  Petie  and  thus  with  her 
hand  raised  the  cup  to  his  lips.  And  as  his 
eyes  looked  down  over  its  blue  rim  into  hers 
the  excitement  in  them  died  down,  first  into 
a  very  deep  tenderness  that  changed  slowly  into 
a  quiet  determination  which  seemed  to  be  pour- 
ing a  promise  and  a  vow  into  her  very  soul. 
Something  in  the  strange  look  made  Rose 
Mary's  hand  tremble  as  he  finished  the  last 
drop  in  the  cup,  and  again  her  lovely,  always- 
ready  rose  flushed  up  under  her  long  lowered 
165 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

lashes.  "Is  it  good  and  cold?"  she  asked  with 
a  little  smile  as  she  turned  away  with  the  cup. 

"Yes,"  answered  Everett  quietly,  "it's  all  to 
the  good  and,  the  milk  to  the  cold." 

"Is  that  a  compliment  to  me  and  the  milk, 
too?"  laughed  Rose  Mary  from  over  by  the 
table  as  she  again  took  up  her  butter-paddle. 
"It's  nice  to  find  things  as  is  expected  of  them, 
women  good  and  milk  cold,  isn't  it?"  she 
queried  teasingly. 

"Yes,"  answered  Everett  from  across  the 
table. 

"And  any  way  a  woman  must  be  a  comfort 
to  folks,  just  as  a  rose  must  smell  sweet,  be- 
cause they're  both  born  for  that,"  continued 
Rose  Mary  as  she  lifted  a  huge  pat  of  the  but- 
ter on  to  a  blue  saucer.  "Men  are  sometimes  a 
comfort,  too — and  sweet,"  she  added  with  a 
roguish  glance  at  him  over  the  butter  flower 
she  was  making. 

"No,  Rose  Mary,  men  are  just  thorns,  cruel 
and  slashing — but  sometimes  they  protect  the 
1 66 


THE    ENEMY,    ROD    AND    STAFF 

rose,"  answered  Everett  in  his  most  cynical 
tone  of  voice,  though  the  excitement  again 
flamed  up  in  his  dark  eyes  and  again  his  hand 
closed  over  the  kit  at  his  side.  "Do  you  know 
what  I  think  I'll  do?"  he  added.  "I  think  I'll 
take  old  Gray  and  jog  over  to  Boliver  for  a 
while.  I'll  see  the  Senator,  and  I  want  to  get 
a  wire  through  to  the  firm  in  New  York  if  I 
can.  I'll  eat  both  the  dinner  and  supper  you 
have  saved  when  I  come  back,  though  it  may 
be  late  before  I  get  my  telegram.  Will  you  be 
still  awake,  do  you  think?" 

"I  may  not  be  awake,  for  Stonie  got  me  up 
so  awfully  early  to  help  him  and  Uncle  Tucker 
grease  those  foolish  little  turkeys'  heads  to 
keep  off  the  dew  gaps,  but  I'll  go  to  sleep  on  the 
settee  in  the  hall,  and  you  can  just  shake  me  up 
to  give  you  your  supper." 

"I'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  you  foolish 
child,"  answered  Everett.  "Go  to  bed  and — 
but  a  woman  can't  manage  her  dreams,  can 
she?" 

167 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

"Oh,  dreams  are  only  little  day  thoughts  that 
get  out  of  the  coop  and  run  around  lost  in  the 
dark,"  answered  Rose  Mary,  with  a  laugh. 
"I've  got  a  little  bronze-top  turkey  dream  that 
is  yours,"  she  added. 

"Is  it  one  of  the  foolish  flock?"  Everett 
called  back  from  the  middle  of  the  plank  across 
the  spring  stream,  and  without  waiting  for  his 
answer  he  strode  down  the  Road. 

And  the  smile  that  answered  his  sally  had 
scarcely  faded  off  Rose  Mary's  face  when 
again  a  shadow  fell  across  the  plank  and  in  a 
moment  Mr.  Crabtree  stood  in  the  doorway. 
Across  the  way  the  store  was  deserted  and 
from  the  chair  he  drew  just  outside  the  door 
he  could  see  if  any  shoppers  should  approach 
from  either  direction. 

"Well,  Miss  Rose  Mary,  I  thought  as  how 
I'd  drop  over  and  see  if  you  had  any  butter- 
milk left  in  that  trough  you  are  fattening  Mr. 
Mark  at,  for  the  fair  in  the  fall,"  he  said  with 
a  twinkle  in  his  merry  little  blue  eyes.  And 
1 68 


THE    ENEMY,    ROD   AND    STAFF 

Rose  Mary  laughed  with  appreciation  at  his 
often  repeated  little  joke  as  she  handed  him  a 
tall  glassful  of  the  desired  beverage. 

"I'm  afraid  Stonie  will  get  the  blue  ribbon 
from  over  his  head  if  he  keeps  on  drinking  so 
much  milk.  Did  you  ever  see  anybody  grow 
like  my  boy  does?"  asked  Rose  Mary  with  the 
most  manifest  pride  in  her  voice  and  eyes. 

"I  never  did,"  answered  Mr.  Crabtree  heart- 
ily. "And  that  jest  reminds  me  to  tell  you  that 
a  letter  come  from  Todd  last  night  a-telling 
me  and  Granny  Satterwhite  about  the  third 
girl  baby  borned  out  to  his  house  in  Colorado 
City.  Looked  like  they  was  much  disap- 
pointed. I  kinder  give  Todd  a  punch  in  the 
ribs  about  how  fine  a  boy  General  Stonewall 
Jackson  have  grown  to  be.  I  never  did  hold 
with  a  woman  a-giving  away  her  child,  though 
she  couldn't  have  done  the  part  you  do  by 
Stonie  by  a  long  sight." 

"Oh,  what  would  I  have  done  without 
Stonie,  Mr.  Crabtree!"  exclaimed  Rose  Mary 
169 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

with  a  deep  sadness  coming  into  her  lovely 
eyes.  "You  know  how  it  was!"  she  added 
softly,  claiming  his  sympathy  with  a  little  ges- 
ture of  her  hand. 

"Yes,  I  do  know,"  answered  the  store-keeper, 
his  big  heart  giving  instant  response  to  the 
little  cry.  "And  on  him  you've  done  given  a 
lesson  in  child  raising  to  the  whole  of  Sweet- 
briar.  They  ain't  a  child  on  the  Road,  girl  or 
boy,  that  ain't  being  sorter  patterned  after  the 
General  by  they  mothers.  And  the  way  the 
women  are  set  on  him  is  plumb  funny.  Now 
Mis'  Plunkett  there,  she's  got  a  little  tin  bucket 
jest  to  hold  cakes  for  nobody  but  Stonie  Jack- 
son, which  he  distributes  to  the  rest,  fair  and 
impartial.  I  kinder  wisht  Mis'  Plunkett  would 
be  a  little  more  free  with — with — "  And  the 
infatuated  old  bachelor  laughed  sheepishly  at 
Rose  Mary  across  her  butter-bowl. 

"When  a  woman  bakes  little  crisp  cakes  of 
affection  in  her  heart,  and  the  man  she  wants 
to  have  ask  her  for  them  don't,  what  must  she 
170 


THE    ENEMY,    ROD   AND    STAFF 

do?"  asked  Rose  Mary  with  a  little  laugh  that 
nevertheless  held  a  slight  note  of  genuine  in- 
quiry in  it. 

"Just  raise  the  cover  of  the  bucket  and  let 
him  get  a  whiff,"  answered  Mr.  Crabtree,  shak- 
ing with  amusement.  "  'Tain't  no  use  to  offer 
a  man  no  kind  of  young  lolly  pop  when  he  have 
got  his  mouth  fixed  on  a  nice  old-fashioned 
pound-cake  woman,"  he  added  in  a  ruthful 
tone  of  voice  as  he  and  Rose  Mary  both  laughed 
over  the  trying  plight  in  which  he  found  his 
misguided  love  affairs.  "There  comes  that 
curly  apple  puff  now.  Howdy,  Louisa  Helen  ; 
come  across  the  plank  and  I'll  give  you  this 
chair  if  I  have  to." 

"I  don't  wanter  make  you  creak  your  joints," 
answered  Louisa  Helen  with  a  pert  little  toss 
of  her  curly  head  as  she  passed  him  and  stood 
by  Rose  Mary's  table.  "Miss  Rose  Mary,  I 
wanter  to  show  you  this  Sunday  waist  I've 
done  made  Maw  and  get  you  to  persuade  her 
some  about  it  for  me.  I  put  this  little  white 
171 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

ruffle  in  the  neck  and  sleeves  and  a  bunch  of 
it  down  here  under  her  chin,  and  now  she  says 
I've  got  to  take  it  right  off.  Paw's  been  dead 
five  years,  and  I've  most  forgot  how  he  looked. 
Oughtn't  she  let  it  stay?" 

"I  think  it  looks  lovely,"  answered  Rose 
Mary,  eying  the  waist  with  enthusiasm.  "I'll 
come  down  to  see  your  mother  and  beg  her  to 
let  it  stay  as  soon  as  I  get  the  butter  worked. 
Didn't  she  look  sweet  with  that  piece  of  pur- 
ple lilac  I  put  in  her  hair  the  other  night?  Did 
she  let  that  stay  ?" 

"Yes,  she  did  until  Mr.  Crabtree  noticed  it, 
and  then  she  threw  it  away.  Wasn't  he  silly?" 
asked  Louisa  Helen  with  a  teasing  giggle  at 
the  blushing  bachelor. 

"It  shure  was  foolish  of  me  to  say  one  word," 
he  admitted  with  a  laugh.  "But  I  tell  you 
girls  what  I'll  do  if  you  back  Mis'  Plunkett 
into  that  plum  pretty  garment  with  its  white 
tags.  I'll  go  over  to  Boliver  and  bring  you  both 
two  pounds  of  mixed  peppermint  and  choco- 
172 


THE   ENEMY,    ROD   AND    STAFF 

late  candy  with  a  ribbon  tied  around  both 
boxes,  and  maybe  some  pretty  strings  of  beads, 
too.  Is  it  a  bargain  ?"  And  Rose  Mary  smiled 
appreciatively  as  Louisa  Helen  gave  an  eager 
assent. 

At  this  juncture  a  team  driven  down  the 
Road  had  stopped  in  front  of  the  store,  and 
from  under  the  wide  straw  hat  young  Bob 
Nickels'  eager  eyes  lighted  on  Louisa  Helen's 
white  sunbonnet  which  was  being  flirted  partly 
in  and  partly  out  of  the  milk-house  door.  As 
he  threw  down  the  reins  he  gave  a  low,  sweet 
quail  whistle,  and  Louisa  Helen's  response  was 
given  in  one  liquid  note  of  accord. 

"Lands  alive,  it  woulder  been  drinking  harm 
tea  to  try  to  whistle  a  woman  down  in  my  day, 
but  now  they  come  a-running,"  remarked  Mr. 
Crabtree  to  Rose  Mary,  as  he  prepared  to  take 
his  departure  in  the  wake  of  the  pink  petticoats 
that  had  hurried  across  the  street. 

Then  for  another  hour  Rose  Mary  worked 
alone  in  the  milk-house,  humming  a  happy  little 

173 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

tune  to  herself  as  she  pounded  and  patted  and 
moulded  away.  Every  now  and  then  she  would 
glance  down  Providence  Road  toward  Boli- 
ver,  far  away  around  the  bend,  and  when  at  last 
she  saw  old  Gray  and  her  rider  turn  behind  the 
hill  she  began  to  straighten  things  preparatory 
to  a  return  to  the  Briars.  In  the  world-old 
drama  of  creation  which  is  being  ever  en- 
acted anew  in  the  heart  of  a  woman,  it  is  well 
that  the  order  of  evolution  is  reversed  and  only 
after  the  bringing  together  and  marshaling  of 
forces  unsuspected  even  by  herself  comes  the 
command  for  light  on  the  darkness  of  the  sit- 
uation. Rose  Mary  was  as  yet  in  the  dusk  of 
the  night  which  waited  for  the  voice  of  God  on 
the  waters,  and  there  was  yet  to  come  the  dawn 
of  her  first  day. 

And  in  the  semi-mist  of  the  dream  she  finally 
ascended  the  hill  toward  the  Briars  with  a 
bucket  in  one  hand  and  a  sunbonnet  swinging 
in  the  other.  But  coming  down  the  trail  she 
met  one  of  the  little  tragedies  of  life  in  the  per- 
174 


THE    ENEMY,    ROD   AND    STAFF 

son  of  Stonewall  Jackson,  who  was  dragging 
dejectedly  across  the  yard  from  the  direction 
of  the  back  door  with  Mrs.  Sniffer  and  all  five 
little  dogs  trailing  in  his  wake.  And  as  if  in 
sympathy  with  his  mood,  the  frisky  little  pup- 
pies were  waddling  along  decorously  while 
Sniffer  poked  her  nose  affectionately  into  the 
little  brown  hand  which  was  hanging  without 
its  usual  jaunty  swing.  Rose  Mary  took  in  the 
situation  at  a  glance  and  sank  down  under  one 
of  the  tall  lilac  bushes  and  looked  up  with  ador- 
ing eyes  as  Stonie  came  and  took  a  spread- 
legged  stand  before  her. 

"What's  the  matter,  honey-sweet?"  she 
asked  quickly. 

"Rose  Mamie,  it's  a  lie  that  I  don't  know 
whether  I  told  or  not.  It's  so  curious  that  I 
don't  hardly  think  God  knows  what  I  did," 
and  the  General's  face  was  set  and  white  with 
his  distress. 

"Tell  me,  Stonie,  maybe  I  can  help  you  de- 
cide," said  Rose  Mary  with  quick  sympathy. 

175 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

"It  was  one  of  them  foolish  turkey  hens  and 
Tobe  sat  down  on  her  and  a  whole  nest  of  most 
hatched  little  turkeys.  Didn't  nobody  know 
she  was  a-setting  in  the  old  wagon  but  Aunt 
Amandy,  and  we  was  a-climbing  into  it  for  a 
boat  on  the  stormy  sea,  we  was  playing  like.  It 
was  mighty  bad  on  Tobe's  pants,  too,  for  he 
busted  all  the  eggs.  Looks  like  he  just  always 
finds  some  kind  of  smell  and  falls  in  it.  I  know 
Mis'  Poteet'll  be  mad  at  him.  And  then  in  a  lit- 
tle while  here  come  Aunt  Amandy  to  feed  the 
old  turkey,  and  she  'most  cried  when  she  found 
things  so  bad  all  around  everywhere.  We  had 
runned  behind  the  corn-crib,  but  when  I  saw 
her  begin  to  kinder  cry  I  corned  out.  Then  she 
asked  me  did  I  break  up  her  nest  she  was  a-sav- 
ing  to  surprise  Uncle  Tucker  with,  and  I  told 
her  no  ma'am  I  didn't — but  I  didn't  tell  her  I 
was  with  Tobe  climbing  into  the  wagon,  and  it 
only  happened  he  slid  down  first  on  the  top  of 
the  old  turkey.  It  don't  think  like  to  me  it 
was  a  lie,  but  it  feels  like  one  right  here,"  and 
176 


THE    ENEMY,    ROD   AND    STAFF 

Stonie  laid  his  hand  on  the  pit  of  his  little 
stomach,  which  was  not  far  away  from  the  seat 
of  his  pain  if  the  modern  usage  assigned  the 
solar-plexus  be  correct. 

"And  did  Tobe  stay  still  behind  the  corn- 
crib  and  not  come  out  to  tell  Aunt  Amandy  he 
was  sorry  he  had  ruined  her  turkey  nest?" 
asked  Rose  Mary,  bent  on  getting  all  the  facts 
before  offering  judgment. 

"Yes'm,  he  did,  and  now  he's  mighty  sorry, 
cause  Tobe  loves  Aunt  Amandy  as  well  as  be- 
ing skeered  of  the  devil.  He  says  if  it  was 
Aunt  Viney  he'd  rather  the  devil  would  get  him 
right  now  than  tell  her,  but  if  you'll  come  lend 
him  some  of  my  britches  he  will  come  in  and 
tell  Aunt  Amandy  about  it.  He's  tooken  his 
off  and  he  has  to  stay  in  the  corn-crib  until  I 
get  something  for  him  to  put  on." 

"Of  course  I'll  come  get  some  trousers  for 

Tobe  and  a  clean  shirt,  too,  and  I  know  Aunt 

Amanda  will  be  glad  to  forgive  him.    Tobe  is 

always  so  nice  to  her  and  she'll  be  sorry  he's 

177 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

sorry,  and  then  it  will  be  all  right,  won't  it?" 
And  thus  with  a  woman's  usual  shrinking  from 
meeting  the  question  ethical,  Rose  Mary 
sought  to  settle  the  matter  in  hand  out  of 
court  as  it  were. 

"No,  Rose  Mamie,  I  ain't  sure  about  that  lie 
yet,"  asserted  the  General  in  a  somewhat  re- 
lieved tone  of  voice,  but  still  a  little  uneasy 
about  the  moral  question  involved  in  the  case. 
"Did  I  tell  it  or  not?  Do  you  know,  Rose 
Mamie,  or  will  I  have  to  wait  till  I  go  to  God 
to  find  out?" 

"Stonie,  I  really  don't  know,"  admitted  Rose 
Mary  as  she  drew  the  little  arguer  to  her  and 
rested  her  cheek  against  the  sturdy  little  shoul- 
der under  the  patched  gingham  shirt.  "It  was 
not  your  business  to  tell  on  Tobe  but — but — 
please,  honey-sweet,  let's  leave  it  to  God,  now. 
He  understands,  I'm  sure,  and  some  day  when 
you  have  grown  a  big  and  wise  man  you'll  think 
it  all  out.  When  you  do,  will  you  tell  Rose 
Mamie?" 

178 


THE  ENEMY,  ROD  AND  STAFF 

"Yes,  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  wait  till  then,  and 
I'll  tell  you  sure,  Rose  Mamie,  when  I  do  find 
out.  I  won't  never  forget  it,  but  I  hope  maybe 
Tobe  won't  get  into  no  more  mess  from  now 
till  then.  Please  come  find  the  britches  for 
me!"  And  consoled  thus  against  his  will  the 
General  followed  Rose  Mary  to  the  house  and 
into  their  room,  eager  for  the  relief  and  rehab- 
iting  of  the  prisoner. 

And  in  a  few  minutes  the  scene  of  the  amende 
honorable  between  little  Miss  Amanda  and  the 
small  boys  was  enacted  out  on  the  back  steps, 
well  out  of  sight  and  hearing  of  Miss  Lavinia. 
A  new  bond  was  instituted  between  the  little 
old  lady,  who  was  tremulous  with  eagerness  to 
keep  the  culprit  from  any  form  of  self-re- 
proach, and  Tobe,  the  unfortunate,  who  was 
one  of  her  most  ardent  admirers  at  all  times. 
And  it  was  sealed  by  a  double  handful  of  tea- 
cakes  to  both  offenders. 

After  she  had  watched  the  boys  disappear  in 
the  direction  of  the  barn,  intent  on  making  a 
179 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

great  clean-up  job  of  the  disaster  under  Miss 
Amanda's  direction,  Rose  Mary  wended  her 
way  to  the  garden  for  a  precious  hour  of  com- 
munion with  her  flowers  and  vegetable  nursery 
babies.  She  had  just  tucked  up  her  skirts  and 
started  in  with  a  light  hoe  when  she  espied 
Uncle  Tucker  coming  slowly  up  Providence 
Road  from  the  direction  of  the  north  woods. 
Something  a  bit  dejected  in  his  step  and  a 
slightly  greater  stoop  in  his  shoulders  made 
her  throw  down  her  weapon  of  war  on  the 
weeds  and  come  to  lean  over  the  wall  to  wait 
for  him. 

"What's  the  matter,  old  Sweetie — tired?" 
she  demanded  as  he  came  alongside  and  leaned 
against  the  wall  near  her.  His  big  gray  eyes 
were  troubled  and  there  was  not  the  sign  of  the 
usual  quizzical  smile.  The  forelock  hung  down 
in  a  curl  from  under  the  brim  of  the  old  gray 
hat  and  the  lavender  muffler  swung  at  loose 
ends.  As  he  lighted  the  old  cob  his  lean  brown 
hands  trembled  slightly  and  he  utterly  refused 
1 80 


THE    ENEMY,    ROD   AND    STAFF 

to  look  into  Rose  Mary's  eyes.  "What  is  it, 
honey-heart?"  she  demanded  again. 

"What's  what,  Rose  Mary?"  asked  Uncle 
Tucker  with  a  slight  rift  in  the  gloom.  "They 
are  some  women  in  the  world,  if  a  man  was  to 
seal  up  his  trouble  in  a  termater-can  and  swol- 
ler  it,  would  get  a  button-hook  and  a  can- 
opener  to  go  after  him  to  get  it  out.  You  be- 
long to  that  persuasion." 

"I  want  to  be  the  tomato-can — and  not  be 
'swollered',"  answered  Rose  Mary  as  she 
reached  over  and  gently  removed  the  tattered 
gray  roof  from  off  the  white  shock  and  began 
to  smooth  and  caress  its  brim  into  something 
of  its  former  shape.  "I  know  something  is 
the  matter,  and  if  it's  your  trouble  it's  mine. 
I'm  your  heir  at  law,  am  I  not  ?" 

"Yes,  and  you're  a-drawing  on  the  estate  for 
more'n  your  share  of  pesters,  looks  like,"  an- 
swered Uncle  Tucker  as  he  raised  his  eyes  to 
hers  wistfully. 

"Is  it  something  about — about  the  mort- 
181 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

gage?"  asked  Rose  Mary  in  the  gently  hushed 
tone  that  she  always  used  in  speaking  of  this 
ever  couchant  enemy  of  their  peace. 

"Yes,"  answered  Uncle  Tucker  slowly,  "it's 
about  the  mortgage,  and  I'm  mighty  sorry  to 
have  to  tell  you,  but  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  come 
to  accepting  you  from  the  Lord  as  a  rod  and 
staff  to  hobble  on.  I — I  had  that  settlement 
with  the  Senator  this  evening  'fore  he  left  and 
it  came  pretty  nigh  winding  me  to  see  how 
things  stood.  Instead  of  a  little  more'n  one 
hundred  dollars  behind  in  the  interest  we  are 
mighty  near  on  to  six,  and  by  right  figures, 
too.  It  just  hasn't  measured  out  any  year, 
and  I  never  stopped  to  count  it  at  so  much.  Gid 
was  mighty  kind  about  it  and  said  never  mind, 
let  it  run,  but — but  I'm  not  settled  in  my  mind 
it's  right  to  hold  on  like  this ;  he  maybe  didn't 
mean  it,  but  before  dinner  he  dropped  a  word 
about  being  mighty  hard  pressed  for  money  to 
keep  up  this  here  white  ribbon  contest  he's 
a-running  against  his  own  former  record.  No, 
182 


THE  ENEMY,  ROD  AND  STAFF 

I'm  not  settled  in  my  mind  about  the  rights 
of  it,"  and  with  this  uneasy  reiteration  Uncle 
Tucker  raised  his  big  eyes  to  Rose  Mary  in 
which  lay  the  exact  quest  for  the  path  of  honor 
that  she  had  met  in  the  young  eyes  of  the  Gen- 
eral not  two  hours  before.  In  fact,  Uncle 
Tucker's  eyes  were  so  like  Stonie's  in  their 
mournful  demand  for  a  decision  from  her  that 
Rose  Mary's  tender  heart  throbbed  with  sym- 
pathy but  sank  with  dismay  at  again  having 
the  decision  of  a  question  of  masculine  ethics 
presented  to  her. 

"I  just  don't  know  what  to  say,  Uncle 
Tucker,"  she  faltered,  thus  failing  him  in  his 
crisis  more  completely  than  she  had  the  boy. 

"The  time  for  saying  has  passed,  and  I'm 
afraid  to  look  forwards  to  what  we  may  have 
to  do,"  answered  Uncle  Tucker  quietly.  "After 
Gid  was  gone  on  up  the  road  I  walked  over  to 
Tilting  Rock  and  sat  down  with  my  pipe  to 
think  it  all  over.  My  eyes  are  a-getting  kinder 
dim  now,  but  as  far  as  I  could  see  in  most  all 
183 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

directions  was  land  that  I  had  always  called 
mine  since  I  come  into  a  man's  estate.  And 
there  is  none  of  it  that  has  ever  had  a  deed  writ 
aginst  it  since  that  first  Alloway  got  it  in  a 
grant  from  Virginy.  There  is  meadow  land  and 
corn  hillside,  creeks  for  stock  and  woodlands 
for  shelter,  and  the  Alloway s  before  me  have 
fenced  it  solid  and  tended  it  honest,  with  re- 
turn enrichment  for  every  crop.  And  now  it 
has  come  to  me  in  my  old  age  to  let  it  go  into 
the  hands  of  strangers — sold  by  my  own  flesh 
and  blood  for  a  mess  of  pottage,  he  not  know- 
ing what  he  did  I  will  believe,  God  help  me. 
I'm  resting  him  and  the  judgment  of  him  in 
the  arms  of  Mercy,  but  my  living  folks  have 
got  to  have  an  earthly  shelter.  Can  you  see 
a  way,  child  ?  As  I  say,  my  eyes  are  a-getting 
dim." 

"I  can't  see  any  other  shelter  than  the  Briars, 

Uncle  Tucker,  and  there  isn't  going  to  be  any 

other,"  answered  Rose  Mary  as  she  stroked 

the  old  hat  in  her  hand.     "You  know  some- 

184 


THE    ENEMY,    ROD    AND    STAFF 

times  men  run  right  against  a  stone  wall  when 
a  woman  can  see  a  door  plainly  in  front  of 
them  both.  She  just  looks  for  the  door  and 
don't  ask  to  know  who  is  going  to  open  it  from 
the  other  side.  Our  door  is  there  I  know — I 
have  been  looking  for  it  for  a  long  time.  Right 
now  it  looks  like  a  cow  gate  to  me,"  and  a  little 
reluctant  smile  came  over  Rose  Mary's  grave 
face  as  if  she  were  being  forced  to  give  up  a 
cherished  secret  before  she  were  ready  for  the 
revelation. 

"And  if  the  gate  sticks,  Rose  Mary,  I  believe 
you'll  climb  the  fence  and  pull  us  all  over, 
whether  or  no,"  answered  Uncle  Tucker  with 
a  slightly  comforted  expression  coming  into 
his  eyes.  "You're  one  of  the  women  who  knot 
a  bridle  out  of  a  horse's  own  tail  to  drive  him 
with.  Have  you  got  this  scheme  already 
geared  up  tight,  ready  to  start?" 

"It's  only  that  Mr.  Crabtree  brought  word 
from  town  that  the  big  grocery  he  sells  my  but- 
ter to  would  agree  to  take  any  amount  I  could 
185 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

send  them  at  a  still  larger  price.  If  we  could 
hold  on  to  the  place,  buy  more  cows  and  all  the 
milk  other  people  in  Sweetbrar  have  to  sell  I  be- 
lieve I  could  make  the  interest  and  more  than 
the  interest  every  year.  But  if  Mr.  Newsome 
needs  the  money,  I  am  afraid — he  might  not 
like  to  wait.  It  would  be  a  year  before  I  could 
see  exactly  how  things  succeed — and  that's  a 
long  time." 

"Yes,  and  it  would  mean  for  you  to  just 
be  a-turning  yourself  into  meat  and  drink  for 
the  family,  nothing  more  or  less,  Rose  Alary. 
You  work  like  you  was  a  single  filly  hitched  to 
a  two-horse  wagon  now,  and  that  would  be  just 
piling  fence  rails  on  top  of  the  load  of  hay  you 
are  already  a-drawing  for  all  of  us  old  live 
stock.  You  couldn't  work  all  that  butter." 

"Don't  you  know  that  love  mixed  in  the 
bread  of  life  makes  it  easy  for  the  woman  to 
work  a  large  batch  for  her  family,  Uncle 
Tucker? — and  why  not  butter?  Will  you  talk 
to  Mr.  Newsome  the  next  time  he  comes  and 
186 


THE    ENEMY,    ROD    AND    STAFF 

see  what  he  thinks  of  the  plan?  I  would  tell 
him  about  it  myself — only  I — I  don't  know 
why,  but  I  don't — want  to."  Rose  Mary 
blushed  and  looked  away  across  the  Road,  but 
her  confusion  was  all  unnoticed  by  Uncle 
Tucker,  who  was  busily  lighting  a  second  pipe- 
ful of  tobacco. 

"Yes,  I'll  talk  to  him  and  Crabtree  both 
about  it,"  he  answered  slowly.  "I  can't  hardly 
bear  the  idea  of  your  doing  it,  child,  and  if  it 
was  just  me  I  wouldn't  hear  tell  of  it,  but 
Sister  Viney  and  Sister  Amandy — moved 
they'd  be  like  a  couple  of  sprouts  of  their  own 
honeysuckle  vine  that  you  had  pulled  up  and 
left  in  the  sun  to  wilt.  Home  was  a  place  to 
grow  in  for  women  of  their  day,  not  just  a- 
kinder  waiting  shack  between  stations  like  it 
has  come  to  be  in  these  times  of  women's  up- 
rising— in  the  newspapers." 

"We  don't  get  much  new  woman  excitement 
out  here  in  Harpeth  Valley,  Uncle  Tucker," 
laughed  Rose  Mary,  glad  to  see  him  rise  once 
187 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

more  from  the  depth  of  his  depression  to  his 
usual  philosophic  level.  "You  wouldn't  call 
— er — er  Mrs.  Poteet  a  modern  woman,  would 
you?" 

"Fly-away,  Peggy  Poteet  is  the  genuine, 
original  mossback  and  had  oughter  be  expelled 
from  the  sex  by  the  confederation  president 
herself,"  answered  Uncle  Tucker  as  they  both 
glanced  down  past  the  milk-house  where  they 
saw  the  comely  mother  of  the  seven  at  her  gate 
administering  refreshment  in  the  form  of 
bread  and  jam  to  all  of  her  own  and  quite  a 
number  of  the  other  members  of  the  Swarm, 
including  the  General  and  the  reclothed  and 
shriven  Tobe.  "If  there  is  another  Poteet  out- 
put next  April  we'll  have  to  report  her,"  he 
added  with  a  laugh. 

"But  there  never  was  a  baby  since  Stonie  like 
little  Tucker,"  answered  Rose  Mary  in  quick 
defense  of  the  small  namesake  of  whom  Uncle 
Tucker  was  secretly  but  inordinately  proud. 

"Yes,  and  I'm  a-going  to  report  you  to  the 
188 


THE  ENEMY,  ROD  AND  STAFF 

society  of  suppression  of  men  folks  as  a  regu- 
lar spiler,  Rose  Mary  Alloway,  if  you  don't 
keep  more  stern  than  you  are  at  present  with 
me  and  Stonie,  to  say  nothing  of  all  the  men 
members  of  Sweetbriar  from  Everett  clean  on 
through  Crabtree  down  to  that  very  young 
Tucker  Poteet.  You  are  one  of  the  women 
that  feed  and  clothe  and  blush  on  men  like  you 
were  borned  a  hundred  years  ago  and  nobody 
had  told  you  they  wasn't  worth  shucks.  Are 
you  a-going  to  reform?" 

"I'll  try  when  I  get  time,"  answered  Rose 
Mary  with  a  smile  as  she  bestowed  both  a  fleet- 
ing kiss  and  the  old  hat  on  Uncle  Tucker's 
forelock  over  the  wall.  "Now  I  want  to  run  in 
and  make  a  few  cup  custards,  so  I  can  save  one 
for  Mr.  Mark  when  he  gets  home  to-night. 
He  loves  them  cold.  Little  cooking  attentions 
never  spoil  men,  they  just  nourish  them.  Any- 
way, what  is  a  woman  going  to  have  left  to  do 
in  life  if  she  sheds  the  hovering  feathers  she 
keeps  to  tuck  her  nesties  underneath?" 
189 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  SATSUMA  VASE 

"TT7ELL,  howdy  to-day,  Mis'  Poteet!" 
V  V  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rucker  as  she  came 
across  her  side  yard  and  leaned  over  the  Poteet 
fence  right  opposite  the  Poteet  back  porch.  "I 
brought  you  this  pan  of  rolls  to  set  away  for 
Mr.  Poteet's  supper.  When  I  worked  out  the 
sponge  looked  like  my  pride  over  'em  riz  with 
the  dough  and  I  just  felt  bound  to  show  'em 
off  to  somebody;  I  know  I  can  always  count 
on  a  few  open  mouths  in  this  here  nest." 

"That  you  can  and  thanky  squaks,  too,  Mis' 
Rucker.  I  don't  know  however  I  would  feed 
'em  all  if  it  wasn't  for  the  drippings  from  your 
kitchen,"  answered  the  placid  and  always  im- 
provident Mrs.  Poteet  as  she  picked  up  Shoo- 
fly  and  came  over  to  the  fence,  delighted  at  a 
190 


THE   SATSUMA   VASE 

chance  for  a  few  minutes  parley  with  the  ever 
busy  and  practical  Mrs.  Rucker.  She  balanced 
the  gingham-clad  bunch  on  its  own  wobbly 
legs  beside  her,  while  through  the  pickets  of  the 
fence  in  greeting  were  thrust  the  pink  hands  of 
Petie,  the  bond,  who  had  followed  in  the  wake 
of  his  own  maternal  skirts.  Shoofly  responded 
to  this  attention  with  a  very  young  feminine 
gurgle  of  delight  and  licked  at  the  chubby  fist 
thrust  toward  her  like  an  overjoyed  young 
kitten. 

"Well,  Monday  is  always  a  scrap  day,  so  I 
try  to  kinder  perk  up  my  Monday  supper. 
Singing  in  the  quire  twict  on  Sunday  and  too 
much  confab  with  the  other  men  on  the  store 
steps  always  kinder  tires  Mr.  Rucker  out  so 
he  can't  hardly  get  about  with  his  sciatica  on 
Monday,  and  I  have  to  humor  him  some  along 
through  the  day.  That  were  a  mighty  good 
sermon  circuit  rider  preached  last  night." 

"Yes,  I  reckon  it  were,  but  my  mind  was  so 
took  up  with  the  way  Louisa  Helen  flirted  her- 
191 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

self  down  the  aisle  with  Bob  on  one  side  of 
her  and  Mr.  Crabtree  on  the  other,  I  couldn't 
hardly  get  my  mind  down  to  listening.  And 
when  she  contrived  Mr.  Crabtree  into  the  pew 
next  to  Mis'  Plunkett,  as  she  moved  down  for 
'em,  I  most  gave  a  snort  out  loud.  Didn't 
Mis'  Plunkett  look  nice  in  that  second  mourn- 
ing tucker  it  took  Louisa  Helen  and  all  of 
Sweetbriar  to  persuade  her  into?" 

"Lou  Plunkett  is  as  pretty  as  a  chiny  aster 
that  blooms  in  September  and  what  she's  hav- 
ing these  number-two  conniptions  over  Mr. 
Crabtree  for  is  more  than  I  can  see.  I  look  on 
a  second  husband  as  a  good  dessert  after  a  fine 
dinner  and  a  woman  oughter  swallow  one 
when  offered  without  no  mincing.  I  wouldn't 
make  two  bites  of  taking  Mr.  Crabtree  after 
poor  puny  Mr.  Plunkett  if  it  was  me.  Of 
course  there  never  was  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Sat- 
terwhite,  but  he  was  always  mighty  busy,  while 
Cal  Rucker  is  a  real  pleasure  to  me  a-setting 
around  the  house  on  account  of  his  soft  con- 
192 


THE   SATSUMA   VASE 

stitution.  Mr.  Satterwhite,  I'm  thankful  to 
say,  left  me  so  well  provided  for  that  I  can 
afford  Mr.  Rucker  as  a  kind  of  play  ornament." 

"Yes,  they  ain't  nothing  been  thought  up  yet 
to  beat  marrying,"  answered  Mrs.  Poteet. 
"Now  didn't  Emma  Satterwhite  find  a  good 
chanct  when  Todd  Crabtree  married  her  and 
took  her  away  after  all  that  young  Tucker  Al- 
loway  doings?  It  were  a  kind  of  premium  for 
flightiness,  but  I  for  one  was  glad  to  get  her 
gone  off'en  Rose  Mary's  hands.  I  couldn't 
a-bear  to  see  her  tending  hand  and  foot  a 
woman  she  were  jilted  for." 

"Well,  a  jilt  from  some  men  saves  a  woman 
from  being  married  with  a  brass  ring  outen  a 
popcorn  box,  in  my  mind,  and  Tucker  Alloway 
were  one  of  them  kind  of  men.  But  talking 
about  marrying,  I'm  kinder  troubled  in  my 
mind  about  something,  and  I  know  I  can  de- 
pend on  you  not  to  say  nothing  to  nobody. 
Mr.  Gid  Newsome  stopped  at  my  gate  last 
week  and  got  me  into  a  kinder  hinting  chaver- 

193 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

ing  that  have  been  a-troubling  me  ever  since. 
Now  that's  where  Mr.  Rucker  is  such  a  com- 
fort to  me,  he'll  stay  awake  and  worry  as  long 
as  I  have  need  of,  while  I  wouldn't  a-dared  to 
speak  to  Mr.  Satterwhite  after  he  put  out  the 
light.  But  this  is  about  what  I've  pieced  outen 
that  talk  with  the  Senator,  with  Cal's  help. 
That  mortgage  he  has  got  on  the  Briars  about 
covers  it,  like  a  double  blanket  on  a  single  bed, 
and  with  the  interest  beginning  to  pile  up  it's 
hard  to  keep  the  ends  tucked  in.  The  time 
have  come  when  Mr.  Tucker  can't  make  it  no 
more  and  something  has  got  to  be  done.  But 
they  ain't  no  use  to  talk  about  moving  them  old 
folks.  I  gather  from  a  combination  of  what 
Mr.  Gid  looked  and  didn't  say  that  he  were 
entirely  willing  to  take  over  the  place  and 
make  some  sorter  arrangement  about  them  all 
a-staying  on  just  the  same.  That'd  be  mighty 
kind  of  him." 

"You  don't  reckon  he'd  do  no  such  take-me- 
or-get-out  co'ting  to  Rose   Mary,   do  you?" 
194 


THE    SATSUMA   VASE 

asked  the  soft-natured  little  Mrs.  Poteet  with 
alarmed  sympathy  in  her  blue  eyes. 

"Oh,  no,  he  ain't  that  big  a  fool.  Every 
man  knows  in  marrying  an  unwilling  woman 
he's  putting  himself  down  to  eat  nothing  but 
scraps  around  the  kitchen  door.  But  I  wisht 
Rose  Mary  could  make  up  her  mind  to  marry 
Mr.  Newsome.  She  might  as  well,  for  in  the 
end  a  woman  can't  tell  nothing  about  taking  a 
man;  she  just  has  to  choose  a  can  of  a  good 
brand  and  then  be  satisfied,  for  they  all  season 
and  heat  up  about  alike.  I  never  gave  him  no 
satisfaction  about  talking  his  praises  to  her,  but 
I  reckon  I'm  for  the  tie-up  if  Rose  Mary  can 
see  it  that  way."  And  Mrs.  Rucker  glanced 
along  the  Road  toward  Rose  Mary's  milk-house 
with  a  kindly,  though  calculating  matchmak- 
ing in  her  practical  eyes. 

"I'm  kinder  for  Mr.  Mark,"  ventured  the 
more  sentimental  Mrs.  Poteet  with  a  smile. 
"He's  as  handsome  as  Rose  Mary  are,  and 
wouldn't  they  have  pretty — " 
195 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

"Oh,  shoo,  I  don't  hold  with  no  marrying 
outen  the  Valley  for  Rose  Mary !  She's  needed 
here  and  ain't  got  no  call  to  gallivant  off  to 
New  York  and  beyont  with  a  strange  man, 
beauty  or  no  beauty.  Besides  she's  pretty 
enough  herself  to  hand  it  down  even  to  the 
third  and  fourth  generation.  But  I  must  go 
and  see  to  helping  Granny  out  on  the  side 
porch  in  the  sun.  I  never  want  to  neglect  her, 
for  she's  the  only  child  poor  Mr.  Satterwhite 
left  me.  Now  Mr.  Rucker —  Why  there 
comes  Mis'  Amandy  down  the  front  walk !  Let's 
you  and  me  go  to  meet  her  and  see  what  she 
wants.  We  can  help  her  across  the  Road  if  she 
is  a-going  to  see  anybody  but  us !"  And  with 
eager  affection  the  two  strong  young  women 
with  their  babies  in  their  arms  hurried  across 
the  street  in  order  to  serve  if  need  be  the  deli- 
cate little  old  lady  who,  with  her  gray  skirts 
fluttering  and  the  little  shawl  streaming  out  be- 
hind, was  coming  at  her  tottering  full  speed  in 
that  direction.  In  her  hand  she  held  carefully 
196 


THE    SATSUMA   VASE 

a  bit  of  sheer,  yellow,  old  muslin,  and  her  bright 
eyes  were  beaming  with  delight  as  she  met  the 
two  neighbors  at  the  gate. 

"It's  the  dress,"  she  exclaimed,  all  out  of 
breath  and  her  sweet  little  voice  all  a-trem- 
ble.  "Sister  and  me  and  Tucker  were  all 
baptized  in  it  when  we  were  babies.  Sister 
Viney  has  had  me  a-going  through  boxes  and 
bundles  for  it  ever  since  little  Tucker  was 
named  for  us,  and  here  it  is!  It's  hand-made 
and  fine  linen,  brought  all  the  way  from  New 
York  down  to  the  city  in  a  wagon  before  the 
railroad  run.  It's  all  the  present  we  have  got 
for  little  Tucker,  but  we  thought  maybe — " 
And  Miss  Amanda  paused  with  a  shy  diffi- 
dence in  offering  her  gift. 

"Gracious  me,  Miss  Amandy,  they  didn't 
nothing  ever  happen  to  me  like  this  little  dress 
being  gave  to  one  of  my  children.  I  am  going 
to  let  him  be  named  in  it  and  then  keep  it  in 
the  box  with  my  Bible,  where  it  won't  be  dis- 
turbed for  nothing,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Poteet  in 
197 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

a  tone  of  voice  that  was  tear-choking  with  rev- 
erence as  she  took  the  dainty  yellow  little  gar- 
ment into  her  hand.  "And  to  think  how  you 
all  have  wored  yourself  out  a-looking  for  it !" 
she  further  exclaimed. 

"Oh,  me  and  Sister  Viney  have  had  a  good 
time  a-going  through  things ;  \ve  haven't  seen 
some  of  them  for  thirty  or  forty  years.  We 
found  the  flannel  petticoat  Ma  was  a-making 
for  me  when  she  died  over  forty-five  years 
ago.  The  needle  is  a-sticking  in  it,  and  I'm 
a-going  to  finish  it  to  wear  next  winter.  I'll 
feel  like  it  is  a  comfort  for  my  old  age  she  just 
laid  by  for  me.  I've  got  a  little  lace  collar  Ma's 
mother  wore  when  she  come  over  from  Vir- 
giny,  and  it's  in  the  very  style  now,  so  we're 
going  to  bleach  it  out  to  give  to  Rose  Mary. 
Come  on  up  to  the  house  with  me  and  see  it 
and  set  with  Sister  Viney  a  spell,  can't  you? 
She's  got  mighty  sore  joints  this  morning, 
though  Rose  Mary  rubbed  her  most  a  hour  last 
night."  And  in  response  to  the  eager  invita- 
198 


THE   SATSUMA   VASE 

tion  they  all  three  went  back  up  the  front  walk 
together.  The  thrifty  Mrs.  Rucker  cast  a  sat- 
isfied glance  back  towards  her  own  side  yard, 
where  upturned  tub  and  drying  wash  were  in 
plain  view.  Mrs.  Poteet  had  put  off  the  task 
of  the  wash  until  a  later  day  of  the  week  and 
thus  could  make  her  visit  with  a  mind  unhar- 
rassed  by  the  vision  of  suds  boiling  over  on  the 
stove  and  soap  melting  in  the  tub. 

And  there  ensued  several  hours  of  complete 
absorption  for  the  four  women  closeted  in  Miss 
Lavinia's  room  in  reviewing  the  events  of  the 
last  half  century  by  means  of  the  reminiscences 
which  were  inspired  by  one  unearthed  heirloom 
after  another.  Pete  and  Shoofly  were  happy  on 
the  floor  enveloping  themselves  and  each  other 
in  long  wisps  of  moth-eaten  yarn  that  Miss 
Amandy  had  unearthed  in  a  bureau  drawer 
and  donated  to  their  amusement.  Mrs.  Poteet 
had  with  her  usual  happy  forgetfulness  of  any- 
thing but  the  very  immediate  occupation,  lost 
sight  of  the  fact  that  she  had  left  young  Tucker 
199 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

asleep  on  the  bed  in  her  room,  which  location, 
counting  the  distance  across  the  two  yards  and 
down  the  Road,  was  at  least  slightly  remote 
from  aid  in  case  of  a  sudden  restoration  to  con- 
sciousness for  the  young  sleeper. 

And  in  the  natural  course  of  events  the  young 
Alloway  namesake  did  awaken  and  gave  lusty 
vent  to  a  demand  for  human  companionship, 
which  was  answered  promptly  by  the  General, 
who  happened  to  be  passing  the  front  gate  in 
pursuits  of  his  own.  Finding  the  house  de- 
serted, with  his  usual  decision  of  action  Stonie 
picked  up  the  baby  and  kept  on  his  way,  which 
led  past  the  garden  up  the  hill  to  the  bam. 
Young  Tucker  accepted  this  little  journey  in 
the  world  with  his  usual  imperturbability,  and 
his  sturdy  little  neck  made  unusual  efforts  to 
support  his  bald  head  over  the  General's  shoul- 
ders as  if  in  pride  at  being  in  the  company  of 
one  of  his  peers  and  not  in  the  usual  feminine 
thraldom. 

Finding  the  barn  also  deserted,  Stonie  laid 
200 


THE   SATSUMA   VASE 

young  Tucker  on  the  straw  in  the  barrel  with 
two  of  Sniffer's  sleeping  puppies  and  began  to 
attend  to  his  errand,  which  involved  the  ex- 
traction of  several  long,  stout  pieces  of  string 
from  a  storehouse  of  his  own  under  one  of  the 
feed  bins  and  the  plaiting  of  them  into  the 
cracker  of  a  whip  which  he  had  brought  along 
with  him. 

Down  below  the  store  the  rest  of  the  Swarm 
were  busy  marking  out  a  large  circus  ring  and 
discussing  with  considerable  heat  their  individ- 
ual rights  to  the  various  star  parts  to  be  per- 
formed in  the  coming  exhibition.  The  ardors 
of  their  several  ambitions  were  not  at  all 
dampened  by  the  knowledge  of  the  fact  that 
the  audience  that  would  be  in  attendance  to 
witness  their  triumphs  would  in  all  probability 
consist  of  only  Granny  Satterwhite,  whom  little 
Miss  Amanda  always  coaxed  to  attend  in  her 
company,  with  perhaps  a  few  moments  of  en- 
couragement'  from  Mr.  Crabtree  if  he  found 
the  time.  To  which  would  always  be  added 
201 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

the  interested  and  jocular  company  of  Mr. 
Rucker,  who  always  came,  brought  a  chair  to 
sit  in  and  stayed  through  the  entire  perform- 
ance. And  in  the  talented  aggregation  of  per- 
formers there  was  of  course  just  one  role  that 
could  have  been  assumed  by  General  Jackson, 
that  of  ringmaster;  so  to  that  end  he  sat  on 
the  floor  of  the  barn  beside  the  sleeping  puppies 
and  young  Tucker  and  plaited  the  lash  by 
means  of  which  he  intended  to  govern  the 
courses  of  his  stars. 

And  it  was  here  that  Everett  found  him  a 
few  minutes  later  as  he  walked  rapidly  up  the 
milk-house  path  and  stood  in  the  barn  door 
in  evident  hurried  search  for  somebody  or 
some  thing. 

"Hello,  General,"  he  said  with  a  smile  at 
the  barrel  full  of  sleepers  at  Stonie's  side,  "do 
you  know  where  Rose  Mary  is?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  General,  "she  are  in  her 
room  putting  buttermilk  on  the  five  freckles 
that  corned  on  her  nose  when  she  hoed  out 
202 


THE    SATSUMA    VASE 

in  the  garden  without  no  sunbonnet.  I  found 
'em  all  for  her  this  morning,  and  she  don't  like 
'em.  You  can  go  on  in  and  see  if  they  are  any 
better  for  her,  I  ain't  got  the  time  to  fool  with 
'em  now." 

"Not  for  worlds !"  exclaimed  Everett  as  he 
sat  down  on  an  upturned  peck  measure  in  close 
proximity  to  the  barrel.  "Have  you  decided  to 
have  Mrs.  Poteet  and  Mrs.  Sniffer  swap — er — 
er  puppies,  Stonie?"  he  further  remarked. 

"No,  I  didn't,"  answered  Stonie  with  one  of 
his  rare  smiles  which  made  him  so  like  Rose 
Mary  that  Everett's  heart  glowed  within  him. 
Stonie  was,  as  a  general  thing,  as  grave  as  a 
judge,  with  something  hauntingly,  almost  trag- 
ically serious  in  his  austere  young  face,  but  his 
smiles  when  they  came  were  flashes  of  the  very 
divinity  of  youth  and  were  a  strange  incarna- 
tion of  the  essence  of  Rose  Mary's  cousinly 
loveliness.  "He  was  crying  because  he  was  by 
hisself  and  I  bringed  him  along  to  wait  till  his 
mother  came  home.  He  belongs  some  to  us, 
203 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

'cause  he's  named  for  Uncle  Tuck,  and  I 
oughter  pester  with  him  same  as  Tobe  have 
to.  It's  fair  to  do  my  part." 

"Yes,  General,  you  always  do  your  part — 
and  always  will,  I  think,"  said  Everett,  as 
he  looked  down  at  the  sturdy  little  chap  so 
busy  with  his  long  strings,  weaving  them  over 
and  over  slowly  but  carefully.  "A  man's 
part,"  he  added  as  two  serious  eyes  were  raised 
to  his. 

"In  just  a  little  while  I'll  be  a  man  and  have 
Uncle  Tucker  and  Aunt  Viney  and  Aunt 
Amandy  to  be  mine  to  keep  care  of  always, 
Rose  Mamie  says,"  answered  Stonie  in  his  most 
practical  tone  of  voice  as  he  began  to  see  the 
end  of  the  long  strings  draw  into  his  weaving 
of  the  cracker. 

"What  about  Rose  Mamie  herself?"  asked 
Everett  softly,  his  voice  thrilling  over  the 
child's  name  for  the  girl  with  reverent  ten- 
derness. 

"When  I  get  big  enough  to  keep  care  of 
204 


THE   SATSUMA   VASE 

everything  here  I'm  going  to  let  Rose  Mamie 
get  a  husband  and  a  heap  of  children,  like  Mis' 
Poteet — but  I'm  a-going  to  make  'em  behave 
theyselves  better'n  Tobe  and  Peggie  and  the 
rest  of  'em  do.  Aunt  Viney  says  Mis'  Poteet 
spares  the  rod  too  much,  but  I'll  fix  Rose 
Mamie's  children  if  they  don't  mind  her  and 
me."  The  General's  mouth  assumed  its  most 
commanding  expression  as  he  glanced  down 
at  the  little  Poteet  sleeping  beside  him,  uncon- 
scious of  the  fact  that  he  was,  in  the  future,  to 
be  the  victim  of  a  spared  rod. 

"Stonie,"  asked  Everett  meekly,  "have  you 
chosen  a  husband  for  Rose  Mary  yet?" 

"No,"  answered  Stonie  as  he  wove  in  the 
last  inch  of  string.  Then  he  paused  and  raised 
his  eyes  to  Everett  thoughtfully.  "It's  jest  got 
to  be  the  best  man  in  the  world,  and  I'm  a-go- 
ing to  find  him  for  her.  If  I  can't  I'll  keep 
care  of  her  as  good  as  I  can  myself." 

"General,"  said  Everett  as  he  held  the  child's 
eyes  with  a  straight  level  compelling  glance, 
205 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

"you  are  right — she  must  have  only  the  best. 
And  you  'keep  care'  until  he  comes.  I  am  go- 
ing away  to-night  and  I  don't  know  when  I  can 
come  back,  but  you  must  always — always  'keep 
care'  of  her — until  the  good  man  comes.  Will 
you?" 

"I  will,"  answered  the  General  positively. 
"And  if  anybody  of  any  kind  bothers  her  or 
any  of  them  I'll  knock  the  stuffins  outen  'em, 
and  Tobe'll  help.  But  say,"  he  added,  as  if 
suddenly  inspired  by  a  brilliant  idea,  "couldn't 
you  look  for  him  for  me  ?  You'd  know  the  good 
kind  of  a  man  and  you  could  bring  him  here. 
I  would  give  you  one  of  the  spotted  puppies  to 
pay  for  the  trouble,"  and  a  hot  wave  engulfed 
Everett  as  the  trustful  friendly  young  eyes 
looked  straight  into  his  as  Stonie  made  this 
extremely  practical  business  proposition. 

"Yes,  General,  I  will  come  and  bring  him  to 
you,  and  when  he  comes  he  will  be  the  best 
ever — or  he  will  have  died  in  the  attempt." 

"All  right,"  answered  Stonie,  completely  sat- 
206 


THE    SATSUMA   VASE 

isfied  with  the  terms  of  the  bargain,  "and  you 
can  take  your  pick  of  the  puppies.  Are  you  go- 
ing on  the  steam  cars  from  Boliver?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Everett,  "and  I  want  to 
find  your  Uncle  Tucker  to  ask  him — " 

"Well,  here  he  is  to  answer  all  inquiries  at 
all  times,"  came  in  Uncle  Tucker's  quizzical 
voice  as  he  stood  in  the  doorway  of  the  barn 
with  a  bucket  in  one  hand  and  a  spade  in  the 
other.  "Old  age  is  just  like  a  hobble  that  tith- 
ers  up  stiff- jinted  old  cattle  to  the  home  post 
and  keeps  'em  from  a-roving.  I  haven't  chawed 
the  rope  and  broke  over  to  Boliver  in  more'n 
a  month  now.  Did  you  leave  Main  Street 
a- running  east  to  west  this  morning?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Everett,  "still  the  same  old 
Boliver.  But  I  wanted  to  see  you  right  away 
to  tell  you  that  I  have  had  a  wire  from  the  firm 
that  makes  it  necessary  for  me  to  get  back  to 
New  York  immediately.  I  must  catch  that 
train  that  passes  Boliver  at  midnight." 

"Oh,  fly  away,  you  can't  pick  up  and  go  like 
207 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

that!"  exclaimed  Uncle  Tucker  with  alarmed 
remonstrance.  "Such  a  hurry  as  that  are  un- 
seemly. Good-byes  oughter  to  be  handled 
slowly  and  careful,  like  chiny,  to  save  smashed 
feelings.  Have  you  told  Rose  Mary  and  the 
sisters?" 

"No ;  I've  just  come  back  from  Boliver,  and 
I  couldn't  find  Rose  Mary,  and  Miss  Lavinia 
and  Miss  Amanda  had  company.  I  must  go 
on  over  to  the  north  field  while  there  is  still 
light  to — to  collect  some — some  instruments  I 
— that  is  I  may  have  left  some  things  over 
there  that  I  will  need.  I  will  hurry  back.  Will 
— you  tell  them  all  for  me?"  As  Everett  spoke 
he  did  not  look  directly  at  Uncle  Tucker,  but 
his  eyes  followed  the  retreating  form  of  the 
General,  who,  with  the  completed  whip,  the 
nodding  baby  and  the  two  awakened  puppies 
was  making  his  way  down  Providence  Road 
in  the  direction  of  the  circus  band.  There  was 
a  strange  controlled  note  of  excitement  in  his 
voice  and  his  hands  gripped  themselves  around 
208 


THE   SATSUMA   VASE 

the  handles  of  his  kit  until  the  nails  went  white 
with  the  strain. 

"Yes,  I'll  tell  'em,"  answered  Uncle  Tucker 
with  a  distressed  quaver  coming  into  his  voice 
as  he  took  in  the  fact  that  Everett's  hurried 
departure  was  inevitable.  "I'm  sorry  you  have 
got  to  go,  boy,  but  I'll  help  you  get  off  if  it's 
important  for  you.  I'll  have  them  get  your 
supper  early  and  put  up  a  snack  for  the  train." 

"I  don't  want  anything — that  is,  it  doesn't 
matter  about  supper.  I — I  will  be  back  to  see 
Miss  Lavinia  and  Miss  Amanda  before  they 
retire."  And  Everett's  voice  was  quiet  with 
a  calmness  that  belied  the  lump  in  his  throat  at 
the  very  mention  of  the  farewell  to  be  said  to 
the  two  little  old  flower  ladies. 

"I'll  go  on  and  tell  'em  now,"  said  Uncle 
Tucker  with  an  even  increased  gloom  in  his 
face  and  voice.  "Breaking  bad  news  to  women 
folks  is  as  nervous  a  work  as  dropping  a  bas- 
ket of  eggs;  you  never  can  tell  in  which  direc- 
tion the  lamentations  are  a-going  to  spatter  and 
209 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

spoil  things.  I'll  go  get  the  worst  of  the  muss 
over  before  you  get  back." 

"Thank  you,"  answered  Everett  with  both  a 
laugh  and  a  catch  in  his  voice  as  they  separ- 
ated, he  going  out  through  the  field  and  over 
the  hill  and  Uncle  Tucker  along  the  path  to 
the  house. 

And  a  little  later  Uncle  Tucker  found  Rose 
Mary  moving  alone  knee  deep  in  the  flowers 
and  fruit  of  her  beloved  garden.  For  long 
moments  she  bent  over  the  gray-green,  white- 
starred  bed  of  cinnamon  pinks  which  sent  up 
an  Arabian  fragrance  into  her  face  as  she 
carefully  threaded  out  each  little  weed  that  had 
dared  rear  its  head  among  the  white  blossoms. 
As  she  walked  between  the  rows  the  tall  lilies 
laid  their  heads  against  her  breast  and  kissed 
traces  of  their  gold  hearts  on  her  hands  and 
bare  arms,  while  on  the  other  side  a  very  riot 
of  blush  peonies  crowded  against  her  skirts. 
Long  trails  of  pod-laden  snap  beans  tangled 
around  her  feet  and  a  couple  of  round  young 
210 


THE   SATSUMA   VASE 

squashes  rolled  from  their  stems  at  the  touch 
of  her  fingers.  She  was  the  very  incarnation 
of  young  Plenty  in  the  garden  of  the  gods,  and 
she  reveled  as  she  worked. 

"Rose  Mary,"  said  Uncle  Tucker  as  he 
came  and  stood  beside  her  as  she  began  to  train 
the  clambering  butter-bean  vines  around  their 
tall  poles,  "young  Everett  has  got  to  go  on  to 
New  York  to-night  on  the  train  from  Boliver, 
and  I  told  him  you  would  be  mighty  glad  to 
help  him  off  in  time.  I'd  put  him  up  a  mid- 
dling good  size  snack  if  I  was  you,  for  the  eat- 
ing on  a  train  must  be  mighty  scrambled  like 
at  best.  We'll  have  to  turn  around  to  keep 
him  from  being  late."  And  it  was  thus  broad- 
side that  the  blow  was  delivered  which  shook 
the  very  foundations  of  Rose  Mary's  heart  and 
left  her  white  to  the  lips  and  with  hands  that 
clutched  at  the  bean  vines  desperately. 

"When  did  he  tell  you?"  she  asked  in  a  voice 
that  managed  to  pass  muster  in  the  failing 
light. 

211 


"Just  a  little  while  ago,  and  the  news  hit 
Sister  Viney  so  sudden  like  it  give  her  a  bad 
spell  of  asthma,  and  Sister  Amandy  was  sorter 
crying  and  let  the  jimson-weed  smoke  get  in 
her  mouth  and  choke  her.  They  are  a-having 
a  kind  of  ruckus,  with  nobody  but  Stonie  help- 
ing 'em  put  Sis'  Viney  to  bed,  so  I  reckon  you'd 
better  go*  in  and  see  'em.  He's  gone  over  to 
the  north  field  to  get  a  hammer  or  something 
he  left  and  will  be  back  soon.  Hurry  that  black 
pester  up  with  the  supper,  I'm  so  bothered  I 
feel  empty,"  with  which  injunction  Uncle 
Tucker  left  Rose  Mary  at  the  kitchen  steps. 

And  it  was  a  strenuous  hour  that  followed, 
in  which  things  were  so  crowded  into  Rose 
Mary's  hands  that  the  fullness  of  her  heart  had 
to  be  ignored  if  she  was  to  go  on  with  them. 
After  a  time  Miss  Lavinia  was  eased  back  on 
her  pile  of  pillows  and  might  have  dropped  off 
to  sleep,  but  she  insisted  on  having  her  best 
company  cap  arranged  on  her  hair  and  a  laven- 
der shawl  put  around  her  shoulders  and  thus 
212 


THE   SATSUMA   VASE 

in  state  take  a  formal  leave  of  the  departing 
guest — alone.  And  it  was  fully  a  half  hour 
before  Everett  came  out  of  her  room,  and  Rose 
Mary  saw  him  slip  a  tiny  pocket  testament 
which  had  always  lain  on  Miss  Lavinia's  table 
into  his  inside  breast  pocket,  and  his  face  was 
serious  almost  to  the  point  of  exhaustion.  The 
time  he  had  spent  in  Miss  Lavinia's  room  little 
Miss  Amanda  had  busily  occupied  in  packing 
the  generous  "snack,"  which  Uncle  Tucker 
hovered  over  and  saw  bestowed  to  his  entire 
satisfaction  with  the  traps  Everett  had  strapped 
up  in  his  room.  Stonie's  large  eyes  grew  more 
and  more  wistful,  and  after  he  and  Uncle 
Tucker  retired  with  their  good-byes  all  said  he 
whispered  to  Rose  Mary  that  he  wanted  to  say 
just  one  more  thing  to  Mr.  Mark. 

Tenderly  Everett  bent  over  the  cot  until  the 
blush  rosebud  that  Miss  Amanda  had  shyly 
pinned  in  his  buttonhole  as  her  good-by  before 
she  had  retired,  brushed  the  little  fellow's 
cheek  as  he  ran  his  arm  under  the  sturdy  little 
213 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

nightgowned  shoulders  and  drew  him  as  close 
as  he  dared. 

"Say,"  whispered  Stonie  in  his  ear,  "if  you 
see  a  man  that  would  buy  Sniffer's  other  two 
spotted  pups  I  would  sell  'em  to  him.  I  want 
to  get  them  teeth  for  Aunt  Viney.  I  could  get 
'em  to  him  in  a  box." 

"How  much  do  you  want  for  them?"  asked 
Everett  with  a  little  gulp  in  his  voice  as  his 
heart  beat  against  the  arm  of  the  young  pro- 
vider assuming  his  obligations  so  very  early 
in  life. 

"A  dollar  a-piece,  I  guess,  or  maybe  ten," 
answered  Stonie  vaguely. 

"I'll  sell  them  right  away  at  your  price,"  an- 
swered Everett.  "I'll  see  that  Mr.  Crabtree 
has  them  packed  and  shipped."  He  paused  for 
a  moment.  He  would  have  given  worlds  to 
have  taken  the  two  little  dogs  with  him  and 
have  left  the  money  with  Stonie — but  he  didn't 
dare. 

"And,"  murmured  Stonie  drowsily,  "don't 
214 


THE   SATSUMA   VASE 

forget  that  good  man  for  Rose  Mamie  if  you 
see  him — and — and — "  but  suddenly  he  had 
drifted  off  into  the  depths,  thus  abandoning 
himself  to  the  crush  of  a  hug  Everett  had  been 
hungry  to  give  him. 

And  out  in  the  starlit  dusk  he  found  Rose 
Mary  sitting  on  the  steps,  freed  at  last,  with 
her  responsibilities  all  asleep — and  before  him 
there  lay  just  this  one — good-by. 

Silently  he  seated  himself  beside  her  and  as 
silently  lit  his  cigar  and  began  to  puff  the  rings 
out  into  the  air.  In  the  perfect  flood  of  per- 
fume that  poured  around  and  over  them  and 
came  in  great  gusts  from  the  garden  he  de- 
tected a  new  tone,  wild  and  woodsy,  sweet  with 
a  curious  tang  and  haunting  in  its  alien  and  in- 
sistent note  in  the  rhapsody  of  odors. 

"There's  something  new  in  bloom  in  your 
garden,  Lady  of  the  Rose?"  he  asked  question- 
ingly. 

"Yes,  it's  the  roses  on  the  hedges  coming 
out ;  don't  they  smell  briary  and — good  ?  Just 
215 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

this  last  night  you  will  be  able  to  carry  away 
with  you  a  whiff  of  real  sweetbriar.  To-morrow 
the  whole  town  will  be  in  bloom.  It  is  now  I 
think  if  we  could  only  see  it."  Rose  Mary  had 
gained  her  composure  and  the  poignant  wist- 
fulness  in  her  voice  was  but  a  part  of  the  motif 
of  the  briar  roses  in  the  valley  dusk. 

"I'll  see  it  all  right  to-morrow  and  often. 
Sweetbriar — it's  going  to  blind  me  so  that  I 
won't  be  able  to  make  my  way  along  Broad- 
way. Everything  hereafter  will  be  located  up 
and  down  Providence  Road  for  me."  Ever- 
ett's voice  held  to  a  tone  of  quiet  lightness  and 
he  bravely  puffed  his  rings  of  smoke  out  on 
the  breezes. 

"Perhaps  some  day  you'll  pass  us  again 
along  the  road  to  your  Providence,"  said  Rose 
Mary  gently,  and  the  wistful  question  was  all 
that  her  woman's  tradition  allowed  her  to  ask 
— though  her  heart  break  with  its  pride. 

"Some  day,"  answered  Everett,  and  under- 
neath the  quiet  voice  sounded  a  savage  note 
216 


THE   SATSUMA   VASE 

and  his  teeth  bit  through  his  cigar,  which  he 
threw  out  into  the  dew-carpeted  grass.  Just 
then  there  came  from  up  under  the  eaves  a 
soft  disturbed  flutter  of  wings  and  a  gentle 
dove  note  was  answered  reassuringly  and  ten- 
derly in  kind. 

"Rose  Mary,"  he  said  as  he  turned  to  her 
and  laid  his  hand  on  the  step  near  her,  "once 
you  materialized  your  heart  for  me,  and  now 
I'm  going  to  do  the  same  for  mine  to  you. 
Yours,  you  say,  is  an  old  gabled,  vine-clad, 
dove-nested  country  house,  a  shelter  for  the 
people  you  love — and  always  kept  for  your 
Master's  use.  It  is  something  just  to  have  had 
a  man's  road  to  Providence  lead  past  the  gar- 
den gate.  I  make  acknowledgement.  And 
mine?  I  think  it  is  like  one  of  those  squat, 
heathen,  Satsuma  vases,  inlaid  with  distorted 
figures  and  symbols  and  toned  in  all  luridness 
of  color,  into  which  has  been  tossed  a  poor  sort 
of  flower  plucked  from  any  bush  the  owner 
happened  to  pass,  which  has  been  salted  down 
217 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

in  frivolity — or  perhaps  something  stronger. 
I'll  keep  the  lid  on  to-night,  for  you  wouldn't 
like  the — perfume." 

"If  you'd  let  me  have  it  an  hour  I  would 
take  it  down  to  the  milk-house  and  empty  and 
scrub  it  and  then  I  could  use  it  to  pour  sweet 
cream  into.  Couldn't  you — you  leave  it  here 
— in  Uncle  Tucker's  care?  I — I — really — I 
need  it  badly."  The  raillery  in  her  voice  was 
as  delicious  and  daring  as  that  of  any  accom- 
plished world  woman  out  over  the  Ridge.  It 
fairly  staggered  Everett  with  its  audacity. 

"No,"  he  answered,  coolly  disapproving, 
"no,  I'll  not  leave  it;  you  might  break  it." 

"I  never  break  the  crocks — I  can't  afford  to. 
And  women  never  break  men's  hearts;  they 
do  it  themselves  by  keeping  a  hand  on  the  treas- 
ure so  as  to  take  it  back  when  they  want  it,  and 
so  between  them  both  it  sometimes  gets — shat- 
tered." 

"Very  well,  then — the  lid's  off  to  you — and 
remember  you  asked  for — the  rummage,  Rose 
218 


THE   SATSUMA    VASE 

Mary,"  answered  Everett  in  a  tone  as  light  as 
hers.  Then  suddenly  he  rose  and  stood  tall 
and  straight  in  front  of  her,  looking  down  into 
her  upraised  eyes  in  the  dusk.  "You  don't 
know,  do  you,  you  rose  woman  you,  what  a 
man's  life  can  hold — of  nothingness?  Yes, 
I've  worked  hard  at  my  profession  and  thrown 
away  the  proceeds — in  a  kind  of  — riotous  liv- 
ing. Other  men's  vast  fortunes  have  been 
built  on  my  brains,  and  my  next  year  I'm  going 
to  enter  as  a  penniless  thirty-niner.  When  I 
came  South  three  months  ago  I  drew  the  last 
thousand  dollars  I  had  in  bank.  I  have  a  cou- 
ple of  hundreds  left,  and  that's  all,  out  of  over 
twenty  thousand  made  in  straight  fees  from 
mineral  tests  in  the  last  year.  Yes — a  bit  of 
riotous  living.  It's  true  about  those  poor  flow- 
ers plucked  off  frail  stems  off  frailer  bushes — 
but — if  it  hadn't  been — a  sort  of  fair  play  all 
around  I  wouldn't  stand  here  telling  you  about 
it,  you  in  your  hedge  of  briar  roses.  And  now 
suddenly  something  has  come  into  my  life  that 
219 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

makes  me  regret  every  dollar  tossed  to  the 
winds  and  every  cent  burned  in  the  fires — and 
in  spite  of  it  all  I  must  make  good.  I'm  going 
away  from  you  and  I  don't  know  what  is  going 
to  happen — but  as  I  tell  you  from  now  on  my 
feet  do  not  stray  from  Providence  Road,  my 
eyes  will  turn  from  across  any  distance  to 
catch  a  sight  of  the  crown  of  old  Harpeth,  and 
my  heart  is  in  your  milk-house  to  be  of  any 
kind  of  humble  use.  Ah,  comfort  me,  rose 
girl,  that  I  can  not  say  more  and  that  go  I  must 
if  I  catch  my  train."  And  he  stretched  out  his 
hands  to  Rose  Mary  as  she  arose  and  stood 
close  at  his  side,  her  eyes  never  leaving  his  and 
her  lips  parted  with  the  quick  breathing  of  her 
lifted  breast. 

"And  you'll  remember,  won't  you,  when 
things  go  wrong,  or  you  are  tired,  that  the 
sunny  corner  in  the  old  farm-house  is  yours? 
Always  I  shall  be  here  in  Harpeth  Valley  with 
my  nest  in  the  Briars,  and  because  you  are  gone 
I'll  be  lonely.  But  I  won't  be  in  the  least  anx- 
220 


THE    SATSUMA   VASE 

ious,  for  whatever  it  is  that  calls  you,  I  know 
you  will  give  the  right  answer,  because — be- 
cause— well,  aren't  you  one  of  my  own  nesties, 
and  don't  I  know  how  strong  and  straight  your 
wings  can  fly?" 


221 


CHAPTER  VIII 
UNCLE  TUCKER'S  TORCH 

1   AND    how   do   you   do,    Mr.    Crabtree? 

-L  \.  Glad  to  see  you,  suh,  glad  to  see  you 
again!  How  is  all  Sweetbriar?  Any  new 
voters  since  young  Tucker,  or  a  poem  or  so  in 
the  Rucker  family?  And  are  you  succeed- 
ing in  keeping  the  peace  with  Mrs.  Plunkett 
for  young  Bob?"  And  firing  this  volley  of 
questions  through  the  gently  agitated  smile-veil 
the  Honorable  Gideon  Newsome  stood  in  the 
door  of  the  store,  large-looming  and  jocular. 

"Well,  howdy,  howdy,  Senator,  come  right 
in  and  have  a  chair  in  the  door-breeze!"  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Crabtree  as  he  turned  to  beam  a 
welcome  on  the  Senator  from  behind  the  coun- 
ter where  he  was  rilling  kerosene  cans.  "We 
ain't  seen  you  in  most  a  month  of  Sundays, 
and  I'm  sure  glad  you  lit  in  passing  again." 
222 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

"I  never  just  light  in  passing  Sweetbriar, 
friend  Crabtree,"  answered  the  senator  im- 
pressively. "I  start  every  journey  with  a  stop 
at  Sweetbriar  in  view,  and  it  seems  a  long  time 
until  I  make  the  haven  I  assure  you,  suh.  And 
now  for  the  news.  You  say  my  friend,  Mrs. 
Plunkett,  is  enjoying  her  usual  good  health  and 
spirits?" 

"Well,  not  to  say  enjoying  of  things  in 
general,  but  it  do  seem  she  has  got  just  a  little 
mite  of  spirit  back  along  of  this  here  bully-rag- 
ging of  Bob  and  Louisa  Helen.  She  come  over 
here  yesterday  and  stood  by  the  counter  up- 
wards of  an  hour  before  I  could  persuade  her 
to  be  easy  in  her  mind  about  letting  Bob  take 
that  frizzling  over  to  Providence  to  a  ice-cream 
festibul  Mis'  Mayberry  was  a-having  for  the 
church  carpet  benefit  last  night.  After  I  told 
her  I  would  put  up  early,  and  me  and  her  could 
jog  over  in  my  buggy  along  behind  them  flip- 
pets  to  see  no  foolishness  were  being  carried 
on,  she  took  it  more  easy,  and  it  looked  like 
223 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

onct  and  a  while  on  the  road  she  most  come  to 
the  point  of  enjoying  her  own  self.  But  I 
reckon  I'm  just  fooling  myself  by  thinking  that 
though,"  and  Mr.  Crabtree  eyed  the  Senator 
with  pathetic  eagerness  to  be  assured  that  he 
was  not  self-deceived  at  this  slight  advance 
up  the  steep  ascent  of  his  road  of  true  love. 

"Not  a  bit  of  doubt  in  my  mind  she  enjoyed 
it  greatly,  suh,  greatly,  and  I  consider  the  cause 
of  diverting  her  grief  has  advanced  a  hundred 
per  cent  by  her  consenting  to  go  at  all.  Did 
any  of  the  other  Sweetbriar  friends  avail  them- 
selves of  the  Providence  invitation — Miss  Rose 
Mary  and  er — any  of  the  other  young  people?" 

"No,  Miss  Rose  Mary  didn't  want  to  go, 
though  Mr.  Rucker  woulder  liked  to  hitch  up 
the  wagon  and  take  her  and  Mis'  Rucker  and 
the  children.  She  have  been  mighty  quiet  like 
sinct  Mr.  Everett  left  us,  though  she'd  never 
let  anybody  lack  the  heartening  of  that  smile 
of  hern  no  matter  how  tetched  with  lonesome 
she  was  herself.  When  the  letters  come  I  just 
224 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

can't  wait  to  finish  sorting  the  rest,  but  I  run 
with  hers  to  her,  like  Sniffle  brings  sticks  back 
to  Stonie  Jackson  when  he  throws  them  in  the 
bushes." 

"Ahm — er — do  they  come  often  ?"  asked  the 
Senator  in  a  casual  voice,  but  his  eyes  nar- 
rowed in  their  slits  and  the  veil  became  impene- 
trable. 

"Oh,  about  every  day  or  two,"  answered  the 
unconsciously  gossipy  little  bachelor.  "Looks 
like  the  whole  family  have  missed  him,  too. 
Miss  Viney  has  been  in  bed  off  and  on  ever 
since  he  left,  and  Miss  Amandy  has  tooken 
a  bad  cold  in  her  right  ear  and  has  had  to 
keep  her  head  wrapped  up  all  the  time.  Mr. 
Tucker's  mighty  busy  a-trying  to  figure  out 
how  to  crap  the  farm  like  Mr.  Mark  laid  off 
on  a  map  for  him  to  do — but  he  ain't  got  the 
strength  now  to  even  get  a  part  of  it  done.  If 
Miss  Rose  Mary  weren't  strong  and  bendy  as 
a  hickory  saplin  she  couldn't  prop  up  all  them 
old  folks." 

225 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

"Yes,"  answered  the  Senator  in  one  of  his 
most  judicial  and  dulcet  tones  as  he  eyed  the 
little  bachelor  in  a  calculating  way  as  if  decid- 
ing whether  to  take  him  into  his  confidence, 
"what  you  say  of  Mr.  Alloway's  being  too  old 
to  farm  his  land  with  a  profit  is  true.  I  have 
come  this  time  to  talk  things  over  with  him 
and — er — Miss  Rose  Mary.  Did  I  under- 
stand you  to  say  our  friend  Everett  is  still  in 
New  York?  Have  you  heard  of  his  having 
any  intention  of  returning  to  Sweetbriar  any 
time  soon?" 

"No,  I  haven't  heard  tell  of  his  coming  back 
at  all,  and  I'm  mighty  sorry  and  disappointed 
some,  too,"  answered  Mr.  Crabtree  with  an 
anxious  look  coming  into  his  kind  eyes.  "I 
somehow  felt  sure  he  would  scratch  up  oil 
or  some  kind  of  pay  truck  out  there  in  the 
fields  of  the  Briars.  I  shipped  a  whole  box 
of  sand  and  gravel  for  him  according  to  a  tele- 
gram he  sent  me  just  last  week  and  I  had  sorter 
got  my  hopes  up  for  a  find,  specially  as  that 
226 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

young  city  fellow  came  out  here  and  dug  an- 
other bag  full  outen  the  same  place  not  any 
time  after  that.  He  had  a  map  with  him,  and 
I  thought  he  might  be  a  friend  of  Mr.  Mark's 
and  asked  him,  but  he  didn't  answer;  never 
rested  to  light  a  pipe,  even,  so  I  never  found 
out  about  him.  I  reckon  he  was  just  fooling 
around  and  I  hadn't  oughter  hoped  on  such  a 
light  ration." 

"When  was  it  that  the  man  came  and  pros- 
pected ?"  asked  the  Senator  with  a  quick  gleam 
coming  into  his  ugly  little  eyes  and  the  smile 
veil  took  on  another  layer  of  density,  while 
his  hand  trembled  slightly  as  he  lighted  his 
cigar. 

"Oh,  about  a  week  ago,"  answered  Mr. 
Crabtree.  "But  I  ain't  got  no  hopes  now  for 
Mr.  Tucker  and  the  folks  from  him.  We'll 
all  just  have  to  find  some  way  to  help  them  out 
when  the  bad  time  comes." 

"The  way  will  be  provided,  friend  Crab- 
tree,"  answered  the  Senator  in  an  oily  tone 
227 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

of  voice,  but  which  held  nevertheless  a  decided 
note  of  excitement.  "Do  you  know  where  I  can 
find  Mr.  Alloway  ?  I  think  I  will  go  have  a  busi- 
ness talk  with  him  now."  And  in  a  few  min- 
utes the  Senator  was  striding  as  rapidly  as  his 
ponderosity  would  allow  up  Providence  Road, 
leaving  the  garrulous  little  storekeeper  totally 
unconscious  of  the  fuse  he  had  lighted  for  the 
firing  of  the  mine  so  long  dreaded  by  his 
friends. 

"Well  now,  Crabbie,  don't  bust  out  and  cry 
into  them  dried  apples  jest  to  swell  the  price, 
fer  Mis'  Rucker  will  ketch  you  sure  when  she 
comes  to  buy  'em  for  to-morrow's  turnovers," 
came  in  the  long  drawl  of  the  poet  as  he  daw- 
dled into  the  door  and  flung  the  rusty  mail- 
sack  down  on  to  the  counter  in  front  of  Mr. 
Crabtree.  "They  ain't  a  thing  in  that  sack  'cept 
Miss  Rose  Mary's  letter,  and  he  must  make  a 
light  kind  of  love  from  the  heft  of  it.  I  most 
let  it  drop  offen  the  saddle  as  I  jogged  along, 
only  I'm  a  sensitive  kind  of  cupid  and  the 
228 


UNCLE    TUCKER'S    TORCH 

buckle  of  the  bag  hit  that  place  on  my  knee  I 
got  sleep-walking  last  week  while  I  was  think- 
ing up  that  verse  that  'despair'  wouldn't  rhyme 
with  'hair9  in  for  me.  Want  me  to  waft  this 
here  missive  over  to  the  milk-house  to  her  and 
kinder  pledge  his  good  digestion  and  such  in 
a  glass  of  her  buttermilk?" 

"No,  I  wisht  you  would  stay  here  in  the 
store  for  me  while  I  take  it  over  to  her  myself. 
I've  got  some  kind  of  business  with  her  for  a 
few  minutes,"  answered  Mr.  Crabtree  as  he 
searched  out  the  solitary  letter  and  started  to 
the  door  with  it.  "Sample  that  new  keg  of 
maple  drip  behind  the  door  there.  The  cracker 
box  is  open,"  he  added  by  way  of  compensa- 
tion to  the  poet  for  the  loss  of  the  buttermilk. 

The  imagination  of  all  true  lovers  is  easily 
exercised  about  matters  pertaining  to  the  ten- 
der passion,  and  though  Mr.  Crabtree  had 
never  in  his  life  received  such  a  letter  he  di- 
vined instantly  that  it  should  be  delivered 
promptly  by  a  messenger  whose  mercury  wings 
229 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

should  scarcely  pause  in  agitating  the  air  of 
arrival  and  departure.  And  suiting  his  actions 
to  his  instinct  he  whirled  the  envelope  across 
the  spring  stream  to  the  table  by  Rose  Mary's 
side  with  the  aim  of  one  of  the  little  god's  own 
arrows  and  retreated  before  her  greeting  and 
invitation  to  enter  should  tempt  him. 

"Honey  drip  and  women  folks  is  sweet  jest 
about  the  same  and  they  both  stick  some  when 
you're  got  your  full  of  'em  at  the  time,"  philos- 
ophized the  poet  as  he  wiped  his  mouth  with 
the  back  of  his  hand. 

"Say,  Crabbie,  don't  tell  Mis'  Rucker  I  have 
come  home  yet,  please.  I  want  to  go  out  and 
lay  down  in  the  barn  on  the  hay  and  see  if  I 
can  get  that  'hair-despair'  tangle  straightened 
out.  She  hasn't  seen  me  to  tell  me  things  for 
two  hours  or  more  and  I  know  I  won't  get  no 
thinking  done  this  day  if  I  don't  make  the  barn 
'fore  she  spies  me."  And  with  furtive  steps 
and  eyes  he  left  the  store  and  veered  in  a  round- 
about way  toward  the  barn. 
230 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

And  over  in  the  milk-house  Rose  Mary  stood 
in  the  long  shaft  of  golden  light  that  came 
across  the  valley  and  fell  through  the  door,  it 
would  seem,  just  to  throw  a  glow  over  the 
wide  sheets  of  closely  written  paper.  Rose 
Mary  had  been  pale  as  she  worked,  and  her 
deep  eyes  had  been  filled  with  a  very  gentle 
sadness  which  lighted  with  a  flash  as  she 
opened  the  envelope  and  began  to  read. 

"Just  a  line,  Rose  girl,  before  I  put  out  the 
light  and  go  on  a  dream  hunt  for  you,"  Everett 
wrote  in  his  square  black  letters.  "The  day  has 
been  long  and  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  drawn 
out  still  longer.  I'm  tired,  I'm  hungry,  and 
there's  no  balm  of  Gilead  in  New  York.  I  can't 
eat  because  there  are  no  cornmeal  muffins  in 
this  howling  wilderness  of  houses,  streets,  peo- 
ple and  noise.  I  can't  drink  because  something 
awful  rises  in  my  throat  when  I  see  cream  or 
buttermilk,  and  sassarcak  doesn't  interest  me 
any  more.  I  would  be  glad  to  lap  out  of  one 
of  your  crocks  with  Sniffle  and  the  wee  dogs. 
231 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

"And  most  of  all  I'm  tired  to  see  you.  I 
want  to  tell  you  how  hard  I  am  working,  and 
that  I  don't  seem  to  be  able  to  make  some  of 
these  stupid  old  gold  backs  see  things  my  way, 
even  if  I  do  show  it  to  them  covered  with  a 
haze  of  yellow  pay  dust.  But  they  shall — and 
that's  my  vow  to — 

"I  wish  I  could  kneel  down  by  your  rocking- 
chair  with  Stonie  and  hear  Uncle  Tucker  chant 
that  stunt  about  'the  hollow  of  His  hand.'  Is 
any  of  that  true,  Rose  Mamie,  and  are  you 
true  and  is  Aunt  Viney  as  well  as  could  be  ex- 
pected, considering  the  length  of  my  absence? 
I've  got  the  little  Bible  book  with  Miss 
Amanda's  blush  rose  pressed  in  it,  and  I  put 
my  hand  to  my  breast-pocket  so  often  to  be 
sure  it  is  there  and  some  other  things — letter 
things — that  the  heat  and  friction  of  them  and 
the  hand  combined  have  brought  out  a  great 
patch  of  prickly  heat  right  over  my  heart  in 
this  sizzling  weather.  I  know  it  needs  fresh 
cold  cream  to  make  it  heal  up,  and  I  haven't 
232 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

even  any  talcum  powder.  How's  Louisa  Helen 
and  doth  the  widow  consent  still  not  at  all? 
Tell  Crabtree  I  say  just  walk  over  and  try 
force  of  arms  and  not  to —  That  force  of 
arms  is  a  good  expression  to  use — literally  in 
some  cases.  Something  is  the  matter  with  my 
arms.  They  don't  feel  strong  like  they  did 
when  I  helped  Uncle  Tucker  mow  the  south 
pasture  and  turn  the  corn  chopper — they're 
weak  and — and  sorter  useless — and  empty. 
Tell  Stonie  he  could  beat  me  bear-hugging  any 
day  now.  Has  Tobe  discovered  any  new  ad- 
venture in  aromatics  lately,  and  can  little  Po- 
teet  sit  up  and  take  notice?  Help,  help,  I'm 
getting  so  homesick  that  I'm  about  to  cry  and 
fall  into  the  ink ! 

"Good  night — with  all  that  the  expression 
can  imply  of  moonlight  coming  over  the  head 
of  old  Harpeth,  pouring  down  its  sides,  rip- 
pling out  over  the  corn-fields  and  flooding  over 
a  tall  rose  girl  thing  who  stands  in  the  door- 
way with  her  'nesties'  all  asleep  in  the  dark 
233 


RO£C   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

house  behind  her — and  if  any  man  were  loung- 
ing against  the  honeysuckle  vine  getting  a  last 
puff  out  of  his  cigar  I  should  know  it,  and  a 
thousand  miles  couldn't  save  him.  I'm  all 
waked  up  thinking  about  \t,  and  I  could  smash 
— Good  night !  M.  E. 

P.  S.  I  don't  think  it  at  all  square  of  you 
not  to  let  Stonie  sell  me  the  little  dogs.  Women 
ought  to  keep  out  of  business  affairs  between 
men." 

And  as  she  turned  the  last  page,  slipped  it 
back  into  place  and  promptly  began  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  very  first  one,  Rose  Mary's  face 
was  an  exquisite  study  in  what  might  have 
been  entitled  pure  joy.  Her  roses  rioted  up 
under  her  lashes,  her  rich  lips  curled  like  the 
half-blown  bud  between  the  fiower  of  her 
cheeks,  and  her  eyes  shone  like  the  two  first 
stars  mirrored  in  a  woman's  pool  of  life.  Also 
it  is  one  of  the  mysteries  of  the  drama  why  a 
woman  will  scan  over  and  over  pages  whose 
234 


UNCLE    TUCKER'S    TORCH 

every  letter  is  chiseled  inches  deep  into  her 
heart;  and  exactly  one-half  hour  later  Rose 
Mary  was  still  standing  motionless  by  her 
table,  with  the  letter  outspread  in  her  hand. 

And  this  was  a  very  wonderful  woman 
Old  Harpeth  had  cradled  in  the  hollow  of 
His  hand,  nurtured  on  the  richness  of  the  val- 
ley and  breathed  into  her  with  ever-perfumed 
breath  the  peace  of  faith — in  God  and  man, 
for  to  any  but  an  elemental,  natural,  faith- 
inspired  woman  of  the  fields  would  have  come 
crushing,  cruel,  tearing  doubts  of  the  man  be- 
yond the  hills  who  said  so  little  and  yet  so 
much.  However,  Rose  Mary  was  one  of  the 
order  of  fostering  women  whose  arms  are  for- 
ever outheld  cradle-wise,  and  to  whose  breast 
is  ever  drawn  in  mother  love  the  child  in  the 
man  of  her  choice,  so  her  days  since  Everett's 
hurried  departure  had  been  filled  with  love  and 
longing,  with  faith  and  prayers,  but  there  had 
been  not  one  shadow  of  doubt  of  him  or  his 
love  for  her  all  half-spoken  as  he  had  left  it. 
235 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

And  added  to  her  full  heart  had  been  bur- 
dens that  had  made  her  hands  still  fuller.  She 
had  gone  on  her  way  day  by  day  pouring  out 
the  richness  of  her  life  and  strength  where  it 
was  so  sorely  needed  by  her  feeble  folk,  with  a 
song  in  her  heart  for  him  and  them  and  to 
answer  every  call  from  along  Providence 
Road.  Thus  it  is  that  the  motive  power  for 
the  great  cycles  that  turn  and  turn  out  in  the 
wide  spaces  between  time  and  eternity,  regard- 
less of  the  wheels  of  men  that  whirl  and  buzz 
on  broken  cog  with  shattered  rim,  is  poured 
through  the  natures  of  women  of  such  a  mold 
for  the  saving  of  His  nations. 

At  last  Rose  Mary  folded  her  letter,  hesi- 
tated, and  with  a  glint  of  the  blue  in  her  eyes 
as  her  lashes  fell  over  a  still  rosier  hint  in  her 
cheeks,  she  tucked  it  into  the  front  of  her  dress 
and  smoothed  and  patted  the  folds  of  her 
apron  close  down  over  it,  then  turned  with 
praiseworthy  energy  to  the  huge  bowl  of  un- 
worked  butter. 

236 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

And  it  was  nearly  an  hour  later,  still,  that 
the  Honorable  Gid  loomed  in  the  doorway  un- 
der the  honeysuckle  vines,  a  complacent  smile 
arranged  on  his  huge  face  and  gallantry  ooz- 
ing from  every  gesture  and  pose. 

"Why,  Mr.  Newsome,  when  did  you  come? 
How  are  you,  and  I'm  glad  to  see  you!"  ex- 
claimed Rose  Mary  all  in  one  hospitable  breath 
as  she  beamed  at  the  Senator  across  her  table 
with  the  most  affable  friendship.  Rose  Mary 
felt  in  a  beaming  mood,  and  the  Honorable 
Gid  came  under  the  shower  of  her  affability. 

"Do  have  that  chair  by  the  door,  and  let 
me  give  you  a  glass  of  milk,"  she  hastened  to 
add  as  she  took  up  a  cup  and  started  for  the 
crocks  with  a  still  greater  accession  of  hos- 
pitality. "Sweet  or  buttermilk?"  she  paused 
to  inquire  over  her  shoulder. 

"Either  handed  by  you  would  be  sweet"  an- 
swered  the   Senator  with   praiseworthy   pon- 
derosity, and  he  shook  out  the  smile  veil  until 
the  very  roots  of  his  hair  became  agitated. 
237 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

"Yes,  Mr.  Rucker  says  my  buttermilk  tastes 
like  sweet  milk  with  honey  added,"  laughed 
Rose  Mary,  dimpling  from  over  the  tall  jar. 
"He  says  that  because  I  always  pour  cream 
into  it  for  him,  and  Mrs.  Rucker  won't  be- 
cause she  says  it  is  extravagant.  But  I  think 
a  poet  ought  to  have  a  dash  of  cream  in  his  life, 
if  just  to  make  the  poetry  run  smoother — and 
orators,  too,"  she  added  as  she  poured  half  a 
ladle ful  of  the  golden  top  milk  into  the 
foaming  glass  in  her  hand  and  gave  it  to 
the  Senator,  who  received  it  with  a  trem- 
bling hand  and  gulped  it  down  desperately; 
for  this  once  in  his  life  the  Honorable  Gideon 
Newsome  was  completely  and  entirely  embar- 
rassed. For  many  a  year  he  had  had  at  his 
command  florid  and  extravagant  figures  of 
speech  which,  cast  in  any  one  of  a  dozen  of  his 
dulcet  modulations  of  voice,  were  warranted 
to  tell  on  even  the  most  stubborn  masculine  in- 
telligence, and  ought  to  have  melted  the  femi- 
nine heart  at  the  moment  of  utterance,  but  at 
238 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

this  particular  moment  they  all  failed  him,  and 
he  was  left  high  and  dry  on  the  coast  of  court- 
ship with  only  the  bare  question  available  for 
use. 

"Miss  Rose  Mary,"  he  blurted  out  without 
any  preamble  at  all,  and  drops  of  the  sweat  of 
an  agony  of  anxiety  stood  out  all  over  the 
wide  brow,  "I  have  been  talking  with  Mr.  Allo- 
way,  and  I  have  come  to  you  to  see  if  we  can't 
all  get  together  and  settle  this  mortgage  ques- 
tion to  the  profit  of  all  concerned.  I  lent  him 
that  money  six  years  ago  with  the  intention 
of  trying  to  get  you  to  be  my  wife  just  as  soon 
as  you  recovered  from  your — your  natural 
grief  over  the  way  things  had  gone  with  you 
and  young  Alloway.  I  have  waited  longer 
than  I  had  any  intention  of  doing,  because  I 
was  absorbed  in  this  political  career  I  had  be- 
gun on,  but  now  I  see  it  is  time  to  settle  mat- 
ters, as  the  farm  is  running  us  all  into  debt, 
and  I'm  very  much  in  need  of  you  as  a  wife. 
I  hope  you  see  it  in  that  light,  and  the  marriage 
239 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

can't  take  place  too  soon  to  suit  me.  You  are 
the  handsomest  woman  in  my  district,  and  my 
constituents  can  not  help  but  approve  of  my 
choice,"  Something  of  the  Senator's  grand- 
iloquence was  returning  to  him,  and  he  re- 
garded Rose  Mary  with  the  pride  of  one  who 

has  appraised  satisfactorily  and  is  about  to 

i 

complete  a  proposed  purchase. 

And  as  for  Rose  Mary,  she  stood  framed 
against  the  fern-lined  dusk  at  the  back  of  the 
milk-house  like  a  naiad  startled  as  she  emerged 
from  her  tree  bower.  Quickly  she  raised  her 
hand  to  her  breast  and  just  as  quickly  the  pres- 
sure of  the  letter  laying  there  against  her  heart 
sent  a  flood  over  her  face  that  had  grown  pale 
and  still,  but  she  raised  her  head  proudly  and 
looked  the  Senator  straight  in  the  face  with  a 
questioning,  hurt  surprise. 

"You  didn't  make  the  terms  clear  when  you 
lent  the  money  to  us,"  she  said  quietly. 

"Well,"  he  answered,  beginning  to  take 
heart  at  her  very  tranquil  acceptance  of  the 
240 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

first  bombardment,  "I  thought  it  best  to  let 
a  time  elapse  to  soothe  your  deceived  affec- 
tions and  cure  your  humiliaton.  For  the  time 
being  I  was  content  to  enjoy  culling  the  flowers 
of  your  friendship  from  time  to  time,  but  I 
now  feel  no  longer  satisfied  with  them,  but 
must  be  paid  in  a  richer  harvest.  We  will 
take  charge  of  this  place,  assure  a  comfortable 
future  for  the  aged  relatives  in  your  care,  and 
as  my  wife  you  will  be  both  happy  and  hon- 
ored." The  Senator  was  decidedly  coming 
into  his  own,  and  smile,  glance  and  voice  as 
he  regarded  Rose  Mary  were  unctuous.  In 
fact,  through  their  slits  his  eyes  shot  a  gleam 
of  something  that  was  so  hateful  to  Rose  Mary 
that  she  caught  her  breath  with  horror,  and 
only  the  sharp  corner  of  her  letter  pressed  into 
her  naked  breast  kept  her  from  reeling.  But 
in  a  second  she  had  herself  in  hand  and  her 
quick  mother-wit  was  aroused  to  find  out  the 
worst  and  begin  a  fight  for  the  safeguarding 
of  her  nesties — and  the  nest. 
241 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

"And  if  I  shouldn't  want  to — to  do  what 
you  want  me  to  ?"  she  asked,  and  she  was  even 
able  to  summon  a  smile  with  a  tinge  of  co- 
quetry that  served  to  draw  the  wily  Senator 
further  than  he  realized. 

"Oh,  I  feel  sure  you  can  have  no  objections 
to  me  that  are  strong  enough  to  weigh  against 
thus  providing  suitably  for  your  old  relatives," 
was  the  bait  he  dangled  before  her  humiliated 
eyes.  "It  is  the  only  way  to  do  it,  for  Mr.  Al- 
loway  is  too  old  to  care  any  longer  for  the 
place,  which  has  been  run  at  a  loss  for  too  long 
already.  We  may  say  that  in  accepting  me  you 
are  accepting  their  comfortable  future.  Of 
course  you  could  not  expect  things  to  go  on 
any  longer  in  this  impossible  way,  as  I  have 
need  of  the  home  and  family  I  am  really  en- 
titled to,  now  could  you?"  The  Senator  bent 
forward  and  finished  his  sentence  in  his  most 
beguiling  tone  as  he  poured  the  hateful  glance 
all  over  her  again  so  that  her  blood  stopped 
in  her  veins  from  very  fear  and  repulsion. 
242 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

"No,"  she  said  slowly,  with  her  eyes  down 
on  the  bowl  of  butter  on  the  table  before  her ; 
"no,  things  couldn't  go  on  as  they  have  any 
longer.  I  have  felt  that  for  some  time."  She 
paused  a  second,  then  lifted  her  deep  eyes  and 
looked  straight  into  his,  and  the  wounded  light 
in  their  blue  depth  was  shadowed  in  the  pride 
of  the  glance.  "You  are  right — you  must  not 
be  kept  out  of  your  own  any  longer.  But  you 
will — will  you  give  me  just  a  little  time  to—- 
to get  used  to — to  thinking  about  it  ?  Will  you 
go  now  and  leave  me — and  come  back  in  a  few 
days?  It  is  the  last  favor  I  shall  ever  ask  of 
you.  I  promise  when  you  come  back  to — to 
pay  the  debt."  And  the  color  flooded  over  her 
face,  then  receded,  to  leave  her  white  and  con- 
trolled. 

"I  felt  sure  you  would  see  it  that  way ;  im- 
mediately, immediately,  my  dear,",  answered 
the  Senator,  as  he  rose  to  take  his  departure. 
A  triumphant  note  boomed  in  his  big  gloat- 
ing voice,  but  some  influence  that  it  is  given 
243 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

a  woman  to  exhale  in  a  desperate  self-defense 
kept  him  from  bestowing  anything  more  than 
an  ordinary  pressure  on  the  cold  hand  laid  in 
his.  Then  with  a  heavy  jauntiness  he  crossed 
the  Road,  mounted  his  horse  and,  tipping  his 
wide  hat  in  a  conquering-hero  wave,  rode  on 
down  Providence  Road  toward  Boliver. 

And  for  a  long,  quiet  moment  Rose  Mary 
stood  leaning  against  the  old  stone  table  per- 
fectly still,  with  her  hand  pressing  the  sharp- 
edge  paper  against  her  heart;  then  she  sank 
into  a  chair  and,  stretching  her  arms  across 
the  cold  table,  she  let  her  head  sink  until  the 
chill  of  the  stone  came  cool  to  her  burning 
cheeks.  So  this  was  the  door  that  was  to  be 
opened  in  the  stone  wall — she  had  been  blind 
and  hadn't  seen ! 

And  across  the  hills  away  by  the  sea  he  was 
tired  and  cold  and  hungry — with  only  a  few 
hundred  dollars  in  his  pocket.  He  was  discour- 
aged and  overworked,  and  a  time  was  coming 
when  she  would  not  have  the  right  to  shelter 
244 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

his  heart  in  hers.  Once  when  he  had  been 
so  ill,  before  he  ever  became  conscious  of  her 
at  all,  his  head  had  fallen  over  on  her  breast 
as  she  had  tended  him  in  his  weakness — the 
throb  of  it  hurt  her  now.  And  perhaps  he 
would  never  understand.  She  couldn't  tell 
him  because — because  of  his  poverty  and  the 
hurt  it  would  give  him — not  to  be  able  to  help 
— to  save  her.  No,  he  must  not  know  until 
too  late — and  never  understand!  Desperately 
thus  wave  after  wave  swept  over  her,  crushing, 
grinding,  mocking  her  womanhood,  until,  help- 
less and  breathless,  she  was  tossed,  well  nigh 
unconscious,  upon  the  shore  of  exhaustion. 
The  fight  of  the  instinctive  woman  for  its  own 
was  over  and  the  sacrifice  was  prepared.  She 
was  bound  to  the  wheel  and  ready  for  the  first 
turn,  though  out  under  the  skies,  "stretched  as 
a  tent  to  dwell  in,"  the  cycle  was  moving  on  its 
course  turned  by  the  same  force  from  the 
same  source  that  numbers  the  sparrows. 
"Rose  Mary,  child,"  came  in  a  gentle  voice, 
245 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

and  Uncle  Tucker's  trembling  old  hand  was 
laid  with  a  caress  on  the  bowed  head  before 
she  had  even  heard  him  come  into  the  milk- 
house,  "now  you've  got  to  look  up  and  get  the 
kite  to  going  again.  I've  been  under  the  wa- 
ters, too,  but  I've  pulled  myself  ashore  with 
a-thinking  that  nothing's  a-going  to  take  you 
away  from  me  and  them.  What  does  it  matter 
if  we  were  to  have  to  take  the  bed  covers  and 
make  a  tent  for  ourselves  to  camp  along  Prov- 
idence Road  just  so  we  all  can  crawl  under 
the  flap  together?  I  need  nothing  in  the  world 
but  to  be  sure  your  smile  is  not  a-going  to  die 
out." 

"Oh,  honey-sweet,  it  isn't — it  isn't,"  an- 
swered Rose  Mary,  looking  up  at  him  quickly 
with  the  tenderness  breaking  through  the 
agony  in  a  perfect  radiance.  "It's  all  right, 
Uncle  Tucker,  I  know  it  will  be!" 

"Course  it's  all  right  because  it  is  right," 
answered  Uncle  Tucker  bravely,  with  a  real 
smile  breaking  through  the  exhaustion  on  his 
246 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

face  that  showed  so  plainly  the  fight  he  had 
been  having  out  in  his  fields,  now  no  longer 
his  as  he  realized.  "Gid  has  got  the  right  of 
it,  and  it  wasn't  honest  of  us  to  hold  on  at 
this  losing  rate  as  long  as  we  did.  There  is 
just  a  little  more  value  to  the  land  than  the 
mortgage,  I  take  it,  and  we  can  pay  the  behind 
interest  with  that,  and  when  we  do  move  offen 
the  place  we  won't  leave  debt  to  nobody  on  it, 
even  if  we  do  leave — the  graves." 

"Did  he  say — when — when  he  expected  you 
to — give  up  the  Briars?"  asked  Rose  Mary  in 
a  guarded  tone  of  voice,  as  if  she  wanted  to 
be  sure  of  all  the  facts  before  she  told  of  the 
climax  she  saw  had  not  been  even  suggested 
to  Uncle  Tucker. 

"Oh,  no ;  Gid  handled  the  talk  mighty  kind- 
like.  I  think  it's  better  to  let  folks  always 
chaw  their  own  hard  tack  instead  of  trying  to 
grind  it  up  friendly  for  them,  cause  the  swal- 
loring  of  the  trouble  has  to  come  in  the  end; 
but  Gid  minced  facts  faithful  for  me,  accord- 
247 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

ing  to  his  lights.  I  didn't  rightly  make  out 
just  what  he  did  expect,  only  we  couldn't  go 
on  as  we  were — and  that  I've  been  knowing 
for  some  time." 

"Yes,  we've  both  known  that,"  said  Rose 
Mary,  still  suspending  her  announcement,  she 
scarcely  knew  why. 

"He  talked  like  he  was  a-going  to  turn  the 
Briars  into  a  kinder  orphan  asylum  for  us 
old  folks  and  spread-eagled  around  about 
something  he  didn't  seem  to  be  able  to  spit  out 
with  good  sense.  But  I  reckon  I  was  kinder 
confused  by  the  shock  and  wasn't  right  peart 
myself  to  take  in  his  language."  And  Uncle 
Tucker  sank  into  a  chair,  and  Rose  Mary  could 
see  that  he  was  trembling  from  the  strain.  His 
big  eyes  were  sunk  far  back  into  his  head  and 
his  shoulders  stooped  more  than  she  had  ever 
seen  them. 

"Sweetie,  sweetie,  I  can  tell  you  what  Mr. 
Newsome  was  trying  to  say  to  you — it  was 
about  me.  I — I  am  going  to  be  his  wife,  and 
248 


UNCLE   TUCKER'S    TORCH 

you  and  the  aunties  are  never,  never  going  to 
leave  the  Briars.  He  has  just  left  here  and — 
and,  oh,  I  am  so  grateful  to  keep  it — for  you 
— and  them.  I  never  thought  of  that — I  never 
suspected  such — a — door  in  our  stone  wall." 
And  Rose  Mary's  voice  was  firm  and  gentle, 
but  her  deep  eyes  looked  out  over  Harpeth  Val- 
ley with  the  agony  of  all  the  ages  in  their 
depths. 

But  in  hoping  to  conceal  her  tragedy  Rose 
Mary  had  not  counted  on  the  light  love  throws 
across  the  dark  places  that  confront  the  steps 
of  those  of  our  blood-bond,  and  in  an  instant 
Uncle  Tucker's  torch  of  comprehension  flamed 
high  with  the  passion  of  indignation.  Slowly 
he  rose  to  his  feet,  and  the  stoop  in  his  feeble 
old  shoulders  straightened  itself  out  so  that 
he  stood  with  the  height  of  his  young  manhood. 
His  gentle  eyes  lost  the  mysticism  that  had 
come  with  his  years  of  sorrow  and  baffling  toil, 
and  a  stern,  dignified  power  shone  straight  out 
over  the  young  woman  at  his  side.  He  raised 
249 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

his  arm  and  pointed  with  a  hand  that  had 
ceased  to  tremble  over  the  valley  to  where 
Providence  Road  wound  itself  over  Old  Har- 
peth. 

"Rose  Mary,"  he  said  sternly  in  a  quiet,  de- 
cisive voice  that  rang  with  the  virility  of  his 
youth,  "when  the  first  of  us  Alloways  came 
along  that  wilderness  trail  a  slip  of  an  English 
girl  walked  by  him  when  he  walked  and  rode 
the  pillion  behind  him  when  he  rode.  She  fin- 
ished that  journey  with  bleeding  feet  in  moc- 
casins he  had  bought  from  an  Indian  squaw. 
When  they  came  on  down  into  this  Valley 
and  found  this  spring  he  halted  wagons  and 
teams  and  there  on  that  hill  she  dropped  down 
to  sleep,  worn  out  with  the  journey.  And 
while  she  was  asleep  he  stuck  a  stake  at  the 
black-curled  head  of  her  and  one  by  the  little, 
tired,  ragged  feet.  That  was  the  measure  of 
the  front  door-sill  to  the  Briars  up  there  on 
the  hill.  Come  generations  we  have  fought 
off  the  Indians,  we  have  cleared  and  tilled  the 
250 


UNCLE    TUCKER'S    TORCH 

land,  and  we  have  gone  up  to  the  state  house 
to  name  laws  and  order.  In  our  home  we  have 
welcomed  traveler,  man  and  beast,  and  come 
sun-up  each  day  we  have  worshipped  at  the 
altar  of  the  living  God — but  we've  never  sold 
one  of  our  women  yet!  The  child  of  that 
English  girl  never  leaves  my  arms  except  to 
go  into  those  of  a  man  she  loves  and  wants. 
Yes,  I'm  old  and  I've  got  still  older  to  look 
out  for,  but  I  can  strike  the  trail  again  to-mor- 
row, jest  so  I  carry  the  honor  of  my  women 
folks  along  with  me.  We  may  fall  on  the 
march,  but,  Rose  Mary,  you  are  a  Harpeth 
Valley  woman,  and  not  for  sale !" 


251 


CHAPTER  IX 

f 

THE  EXODUS 

"TY7ELL,  it  just  amounts  to  the  whole 
V  V  of  Sweetbriar  a-rising  up  and  declar- 
ing of  a  war  on  Gid  Newsome,  and  I  for  one 
want  to  march  in  the  front  ranks  and  tote  a 
blunderbuss  what  I  couldn't  hit  nothing  smaller 
than  a  barn  door  with  if  I  waster  try,"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Rucker  as  she  waited  at  the  store 
for  a  package  Mr.  Crabtree  was  wrapping  for 
her. 

"I  reckon  when  the  Senator  hits  Sweetbriar 
again  he'll  think  he's  stepped  into  a  nest  of 
yellar  jackets  and  it'll  be  a  case  of  run  or  swell 
up  and  bust,"  answered  Mr.  Crabtree  as  he 
put  up  the  two  boxes  of  baking-powder  for  the 
spouse  of  the  poet,  who  stood  beside  his  wife 
in  the  door  of  the  store. 
252 


THE   EXODUS 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Rucker  in  his  long  drawl 
as  he  dropped  himself  over  the  corner  of  the 
counter,  "looks  like  the  Honorable  Gid  kinder 
fooled  along  and  let  Cupid  shed  a  feather  on 
him  and  then  along  come  somebody  trying  to 
pick  his  posey  for  him  and  in  course  it  het 
him  up.  You  all  'pear  to  forget  that  old 
saying  that  it's  all's  a  fair  fight  in  love  and 
war." 

"Yes,  fight ;  that's  the  word !  Take  off  his 
coat,  strap  his  galluses  tight,  spit  on  his  hands 
and  fight  for  his  girl,  not  trade  for  her  like 
hogs,"  was  the  bomb  of  sentiment  that  young 
Bob  exploded,  much  to  the  amazement  of  the 
gathering  of  the  Sweetbriar  clan  in  the  store. 
Young  Bob's  devotion  to  Rose  Mary,  admira- 
tion for  Everett  and  own  tender  state  of  heart 
had  made  him  become  articulate  with  a  ven- 
geance for  this  once  and  he  spat  his  words  out 
with  a  vehemence  that  made  a  decided  impres- 
sion on  his  audience. 

"That  are  the  right  way  to  talk,  Bob  Nick- 
253 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

ols,"  said  Mrs.  Rucker,  bestowing  a  glance  of 
approval  upon  the  fierce  young  Corydon,  fol- 
lowed by  one  of  scorn  cast  in  the  direction  of 
the  extenuating-circumstances  pleading  Mr. 
Rucker.  "A  man's  heart  ain't  much  use  to  a 
woman  if  the  muscles  of  his  arms  git  string- 
halt  when  he  oughter  fight  for  her.  Come  a 
dispute  the  man  that  knocks  down  would  keep 
me,  not  the  buyer,"  and  this  time  the  glance 
was  delivered  with  a  still  greater  accent. 

"Shoo,  honey,  you'd  settle  any  ruckus  about 
you  'fore  it  got  going  by  a  kinder  cold-word 
dash  and  pass-along,"  answered  the  poet  pro- 
pitiatingly  and  admiringly.  "But  I  was  jest 
a-wondering  why  Mr.  Alloway  and  Miss  Rose 
Mary  was  so — " 

"  'Tain't  for  nobody  to  be  a-wondering  over 
what  they  feels  and  does,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Rucker  defensively  before  the  query  was  half 
uttered.  "They've  been  hurt  deep  with  some 
kind  of  insult  and  all  we  have  got  to  do  is  to 
take  notice  of  the  trouble  and  git  to  work  to 
254 


THE   EXODUS 

helping  'em  all  we  can.  Mr.  Tucker  ain't  said 
a  word  to  nobody  about  it,  nor  have  Rose 
Mary,  but  they  are  a-getting  ready  to  move 
the  last  of  the  week,  and  I  don't  know  where 
to.  I  jest  begged  Rose  Mary  to  let  me  have 
Miss  Viney  and  Miss  Amandy.  I  could  move 
out  the  melojion  into  the  kitchen  and  give  'em 
the  parlor,  and  welcome,  too.  Mis'  Poteet 
she  put  in  and  asked  for  Stonie  to  bed  down 
on  the  pallet  in  the  front  hall  with  Tobe  and 
Billy  and  Sammie,  and  I  was  a-going  on  to 
plan  as  how  Mr.  Tucker  and  Mr.  Crabtree 
would  stay  together  here,  and  I  knew  Mis' 
Plunkett  would  admire  to  have  Rose  Mary 
herself,  but  just  then  she  sudden  put  her  head 
down  on  my  knee,  her  pretty  arms  around  me, 
and  held  on  tight  without  a  tear,  while  I 
couldn't  do  nothing  but  rock  back  and  forth. 
Then  Mis'  Poteet  she  cried  the  top  of  Shoo- 
fly's  head  so  soaking  wet  it  give  her  a  sneeze, 
and  we  all  had  to  laugh.  But  she  never  as- 
s  we  red  me  what  they  was  a-going  to  do,  and 
255 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

you  know,  Cal  Rucker,  I  ain't  slept  nights 
thinking  about  'em,  and  where  they'll  move, 
have  I?" 

"Naw,  you  shore  ain't — nor  let  me  neither," 
answered  the  poet  in  a  depressed  tone  of  voice. 

"I  mighter  known  that  Miss  Viney  woulder 
taken  it  up-headed  and  a-lined  it  out  in  the 
scriptures  to  suit  herself  until  she  wasn't  deep 
in  the  grieving  no  more,  but  little  Mis'  Aman- 
dy's  a-going  to  break  my  heart,  as  tough  as  it 
is,  if  she  don't  git  comfort  soon,"  continued 
Mrs.  Rucker  with  a  half  sob.  "Last  night  in 
the  new  moonlight  I  got  up  to  go  see  if  I 
hadn't  left  my  blue  waist  out  in  the  dew,  which 
mighter  faded  it,  and  I  saw  something  white 
over  in  the  Briar's  yard.  I  went  across  to  see 
if  they  had  left  any  wash  out  that  hadn't 
oughter  be  in  the  dew,  and  there  I  found  her 
in  her  little,  short  old  nightgown  and  big  slip- 
pers with  the  little  wored-out  gray  shawl  'round 
her  shoulders  a-digging  around  the  Maiden 
Blush  rose-bush,  putting  in  new  dirt  and  just 
256  / 


THE   EXODUS 

a-crying  soft  to  herself,  all  trembling  and  hurt 
I  went  in  and  set  down  by  her  on  the  damp 
grass,  me  and  my  rheumatism  and  all,  took 
her  in  my  arms  like  she  were  Petie,  and  me 
and  her  had  it  out.  It's  the  graves  she's 
a-grieving  over,  we  all  a-knowing  that  she's 
leaving  buried  what  she  have  never  had  in 
life,  and  I  tried  to  tell  her  that  no  matter  who 
had  the  place  they  would  let  her  come  and — " 

"Oh,  durn  him,  durn  him!  I'm  a-going 
clear  to  the  city  to  git  old  Gid  and  beat  the 
liver  outen  him !"  exclaimed  young  Bob,  while 
his  sunburned  face  worked  with  emotion  and 
his  gruff  young  voice  broke  as  he  rose  and 
walked  to  the  door. 

"I  wisht  you  would,  and  I'll  make  Cal  help 
you,"  sobbed  Mrs.  Rucker  into  a  corner  of  her 
apron.  Her  grief  was  all  the  more  impressive, 
as  she  was,  as  a  general  thing,  the  balance- 
wheel  of  the  whole  Sweetbriar  machinery. 
"And  I  don't  know  what  they  are  a-going  to 
do,"  she  continued  to  sob. 
257 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

"Well,  I  know,  and  I've  done  decided," 
came  in  Mrs.  Plunkett's  soft  voice  from  the 
side  door  of  the  store,  and  it  held  an  unwonted 
note  of  decision  in  its  hushed  cadences.  A  4eep 
pink  spot  burned  on  either  cheek,  her  eyes  were 
very  bright,  and  she  kept  her  face  turned  reso- 
lutely away  from  little  Mr.  Crabtree,  over 
whose  face  there  had  flashed  a  ray  of  most 
beautiful  and  abashed  delight. 

"Me  and  Mr.  Crabtree  were  a-talking  it  all 
over  last  night  while  Bob  and  Louisa  Helen 
were  down  at  the  gate  counting  lightning-bugs, 
they  said.  They  just  ain't  no  use  thinking  of 
separating  Rose  Mary  and  Mr.  Tucker  and  the 
rest  of  'em,  and  they  must  have  Sweetbriar 
shelter,  good  and  tight  and  genteel,  offered 
outen  the  love  Sweetbriar  has  got  for  'em 
all.  Now  if  I  was  to  marry  Mr.  Crabtree 
I  could  all  good  and  proper  move  him  over  to 
my  house  and  that  would  leave  his  little  three- 
room  cottage  hitched  on  to  the  store  to  move 
'em  into  comfortable.  They  have  got  a  heap 
258 


THE    EXODUS 

of  things,  but  most  of  'em  could  be  packed 
away  in  the  barn  here,  what  they  won't  let  us 
keep  for  'em.  If  Mr.  Crabtree  has  got  to  take 
holt  of  my  farm  it  will  keep  him  away  from 
the  store,  and  he  could  give  Mr.  Tucker  a  half- 
interest  cheap  to  run  it  for  him  and  that  will 
leave  Rose  Mary  free  to  help  him  and  tend 
the  old  folks.  What  do  you  all  neighbors 
think  of  it?" 

"Now  wait  just  a  minute,  Lou  Plunkett," 
said  Mr.  Crabtree  in  a  radiant  voice  as  he  came 
out  from  around  the  counter  and  stood  before 
her  with  his  eyes  fairly  glowing  with  his  emo- 
tion. "Have  you  done  decided  yourself ? 
This  is  twixt  me  and  you,  and  I  don't  want 
no  Sweetbriar  present  for  a  wife  if  I  can  help 
it.  Have  you  done  decided?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Crabtree  I  have,  and  I  had 
oughter  stopped  and  told  you,  but  I  wanted 
to  go  quick  as  I  could  to  see  Mr.  Tucker  and 
Rose  Mary.  He  gave  consent  immediately, 
and  looked  like  Rose  Mary  couldn't  do  noth- 

259 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

ing  but  talk  about  you  and  how  good  you  was. 
I  declare  I  began  to  get  kinder  proud  about 
you  right  then  and  there,  'fore  I'd  even  told 
you  as  I'd  have  you."  And  the  demure  little 
widow  cast  a  smile  out  from  under  a  curl  that 
had  fallen  down  into  her  bright  eyes  that  was 
so  young  and  engaging  that  Mr.  Crabtree  had 
to  lean  against  the  counter  to  support  him- 
self. His  storm-tossed  single  soul  was  fairly 
blinded  at  even  this  far  sight  of  the  haven  of 
his  double  desires,  but  it  was  just  as  well  that 
he  was  dumb  for  joy,  for  Mrs.  Rucker  was 
more  than  equal  to  the  occasion. 

"Well,  glory  be,  Lou  Plunkett,  if  that  ain't 
a  fine  piece  of  news!"  she  exclaimed  as  she 
bestowed  a  hearty  embrace  upon  the  widow 
and  one  almost  as  hearty  upon  the  overcome 
Mr.  Crabtree.  "And  you  can't  know  till 
you've  tried  what  a  pleasure  and  a  comfort  a 
second  husband  can  be  if  you  manage  'em 
right.  Single  folks  a-marrying  are  likely  to 
gum  up  the  marriage  certificate  with  some  kind 
260 


of  a  mistake  until  it  sticks  like  fly-paper,  but 
a  experienced  choice  generally  runs  smooth 
like  melted  butter."  And  with  a  not  at  all  un- 
precedented feminine  change  of  front  Mrs. 
Rucker  substituted  a  glance  of  unbridled  pride 
for  the  one  of  scorn  she  had  lately  bestowed 
upon  the  poet,  under  which  his  wilted  aspect 
disappeared  and  he  also  began  to  bloom  out 
with  the  joy  of  approval  and  congratulation. 

"And  I  say  marrying  a  widow  are  like  get- 
ting a  rose  some  other  fellow  have  clipped  and 
thorned  to  wear  in  your  buttonhole,  Crabtree ; 
they  ain't  nothing  like  'em."  Thus  poet  and 
realist  made  acknowledgment  each  after  his 
and  her  own  order  of  mind,  but  actuated  by 
the  identical  feeling  of  contented  self-congrat- 
ulation. 

"I'm  a-holding  in  for  fear  if  I  breathe  on 
this  promise  of  Mis'  Plunkett's  it'll  take  and 
blow  away.  But  you  all  have  heard  it  spoke," 
said  the  merry  old  bachelor  in  a  voice  that  pos- 
itively trembled  with  emotion  as  he  turned  and 
261 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

mechanically  began  to  sort  over  a  box  of 
clothespins,  mixed  as  to  size  and  variety. 

"Shoo,  Crabbie,  don't  begin  by  bein'  afraid 
of  your  wife,  jest  handle  'em  positive  but  kind 
and  they'll  turn  your  flapjacks  peaceable  and 
butter  'em  all  with  smiles,"  and  Mr.  Rucker 
beamed  on  his  friend  Crabtree  as  he  wound 
one  of  his  wife's  apron  strings  all  around  one 
of  his  long  fingers,  a  habit  he  had  that  amused 
him  and  he  knew  in  his  secret  heart  teased  her. 

"Now  just  look  at  Bob  tracking  down  Prov- 
idence Road  a-whistling  like  a  partridge  in  the 
wheat  for  Louisa  Helen.  They've  got  love's 
young  dream  so  bad  they  had  oughter  have 
sassaprilla  gave  for  it,"  and  the  poet  cast  a 
further  glance  at  the  widow,  who  only  laughed 
and  looked  indulgently  down  the  road  at  the  re- 
treating form  of  the  gawky  young  Adonis. 

"Hush  up,  Cal  Rucker,  and  go  begin  chop- 
ping up  fodder  to  feed  with  come  supper  time," 
answered  his  wife,  her  usual  attitude  of  brisk 
generalship  coming  into  her  capable  voice  and 
262 


THE    EXODUS 

eyes  after  their  softening  under  the  strain  of 
the  varied  emotions  of  the  last  half  hour  in 
the  store.  "Let's  me  and  you  get  mops  and 
broom  and  begin  on  a-cleaning  up  for 
Mr.  Crabtree  before  his  moving,  Lou.  I 
reckon  you  want  to  go  over  his  things  before 
you  marry  him  anyway,  and  I'll  help  you.  I 
found  everything  Cal  Rucker  had  a  disgrace, 
with  Mr.  Satterwhite  so  neat,  too."  And  not 
at  all  heeding  the  flame  of  embarrassment  that 
communicated  itself  from  the  face  of  the 
widow  to  that  of  the  sensitive  Mr.  Crabtree, 
Mrs.  Rucker  descended  the  steps  of  the  store, 
taking  Mrs.  Plunkett  with  her,  for  to  Mrs. 
Rucker  the  state  of  matrimony,  though  holy, 
was  still  an  institution  in  the  realm  of  realism 
and  to  be  treated  with  according  frankness. 

Meanwhile  over  in  the  barn  at  the  Briars 
Uncle  Tucker  was  at  work  rooting  up  the 
foundations  upon  which  had  been  built  his  life- 
time of  lordship  over  his  fields.  In  the  middle 
of  the  floor  was  a  great  pile  of  odds  and  ends 
263 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

of  old  harness,  empty  grease  cans,  broken 
tools,  and  scraps  of  iron.  Along  one  side  of 
the  floor  stood  the  pathetically-patched  old  im- 
plements that  told  the  tale  of  patient  saving  of 
every  cent  even  at  the  cost  of  much  greater 
labor  to  the  fast  weakening  old  back  and  shoul- 
ders. A  new  plow-shaft  had  meant  a  dollar 
and  a  half,  so  Uncle  Tucker  had  put  forth  the 
extra  strength  to  drive  the  dull  old  one  along 
the  furrows,  while  even  the  grindstone  had 
worn  away  to  such  unevenness  that  each  revo- 
lution had  made  only  half  the  impression  on  a 
blade  pressed  to  its  rim  and  thus  caused  the 
sharpening  to  take  twice  as  long  and  twice  the 
force  as  would  have  been  required  on  a  new 
one.  But  grindstones,  too,  cost  cents  and  dol- 
lars, and  Uncle  Tucker  had  ground  on  pa- 
tiently, even  hopefully,  until  this  the  very  end. 
But  now  he  stood  with  a  thin  old  scythe  in  his 
hands  looking  for  all  the  world  like  the  incar- 
nation of  Father  Time  called  to  face  the  first 
day  of  the  new  regime  of  an  arrived  eternity, 
264 


and  the  bewilderment  in  his  eyes  cut  into  Rose 
Mary's  heart  with  an  edge  of  which  the  old 
blade  had  long  since  become  incapable. 

"Can't  I  help  you  go  over  things,  Uncle 
Tucker?"  she  asked  softly  with  a  smile  shin- 
ing for  him  even  through  the  mist  his  eyes 
were  too  dim  to  discover  in  hers. 

"No,  child,  I  reckon  not,"  he  answered 
gently.  "Looks  like  it  helps  me  to  handle  all 
these  things  I  have  used  to  put  licks  in  on 
more'n  one  good  farm  deal.  I  was  just  a-won- 
dering  how  many  big  clover  crops  I  had  mowed 
down  with  this  old  blade  'fore  I  laid  it  by  to 
go  riding  away  from  it  on  that  new-fangled 
buggy  reaper  out  there  that  broke  down  in 
less'n  five  years,  while  this  old  friend  had 
served  its  twenty-odd  and  now  is  good  for  as 
many  more  with  careful  honing.  That's  it, 
men  of  my  time  were  like  good  blades  what 
swing  along  steady  and  even,  high  over  rocks 
and  low  over  good  ground;  but  they  don't 
count  in  these  days  of  the  four-horse-power 
265 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

high-drive,  cut-bind-and-deliver  machines  men 
work  right  on  through  God's  gauges  of  sun- 
up and  down.  But  maybe  in  glory  come  He'll 
walk  with  us  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  while 
they'll  be  put  to  measuring  the  jasper  walls 
with  a  golden  reed  just  to  keep  themselves  busy 
and  contented.  How's  the  resurrection  in  the 
wardrobes  and  chests  of  drawers  coming  on?" 
And  a  real  smile  made  its  way  into  Uncle 
Tucker's  eyes  as  he  inquired  into  the  progress 
of  the  packing  up  of  the  sisters,  from  which  he 
had  fled  a  couple  hours  ago. 

"They  are  still  taking  things  out,  talking 
them  over  and  putting  them  right  back  in  the 
same  place,"  answered  Rose  Mary  with  a  faint 
echo  of  his  smile  that  tried  to  come  to  the  sur- 
face bravely  but  had  a  struggle.  "We  will 
have  to  try  and  move  the  furniture  with  it  all 
packed  away  as  it  is.  It  is  just  across  the  Road 
and  I  know  everybody  will  want  to  help  me 
disturb  their  things  as  little  as  possible.  Oh, 
Uncle  Tucker,  it's  almost  worth  the — the  pain 
266 


THE    EXODUS 

to  see  everybody  planning  and  working  for  us 
as  they  are  doing.  Friends  are  like  those  tall 
pink  hollyhocks  that  go  along  and  bloom  single 
on  a  stalk  until  something  happens  to  make 
them  all  flower  out  double  like  peonies.  And 
that  reminds  me,  Aunt  Viney  says  be  sure  and 
save  some  of  the  dry  jack-bean  seed  from  last 
year  you  had  out  here  in  the  seed  press  for — " 

"Say,  Rose  Mamie,  say,  what  you  think  we 
found  up  on  top  of  Mr.  Crabtree's  bedpost 
what  Mis'  Rucker  were  a-sweeping  down  with 
a  broom?"  and  the  General's  face  fairly 
beamed  with  excitement  as  he  stood  dancing 
in  the  barn  door.  Tobe  stood  close  behind  him 
and  small  Peggy  and  Jennie  pressed  close  to 
Rose  Mary's  side,  eager  but  not  daring  to 
hasten  Stonie's  dramatic  way  of  making  Rose 
Mary  guess  the  news  they  were  all  so  impa- 
tient to  impart  to  her. 

"Oh,  what?  Tell  me  quick,  Stonie,"  pleaded 
Rose  Mary  with  the  eagerness  she  knew  would 
be  expected  of  her.  Even  in  her  darkest  hours 
267 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

Rose  Mary's  sun  had  shone  on  the  General 
with  its  usual  radiance  of  adoration  and  he 
had  not  been  permitted  to  feel  the  tragedy  of 
the  upheaval,  but  encouraged  to  enjoy  to  the 
utmost  all  its  small  excitements.  In  fact  the 
move  over  to  the  store  had  appealed  to  a  fast 
budding  business  instinct  in  the  General  and  he 
had  seen  himself  soon  promoted  to  the  weigh- 
ing out  of  sugar,  wrapping  up  bundles  and  de- 
livering them  over  the  counter  to  any  one  of 
the  admiring  Swarm  sent  to  the  store  for  the 
purchase  of  the  daily  provender. 

"It  were  a  tree  squirrel  and  three  little  just- 
hatched  ones  in  a  bunch,"  Stonie  answered 
with  due  dramatic  weight  at  Rose  Mary's  plea. 
"Mis'  Rucker  thought  it  were  a  rat  and  jumped 
on  the  bed  and  hollowed  for  Tobe  to  ketch  it, 
and  Peg  and  Jennie  acted  just  like  her,  too, 
after  Tobe  and  me  had  ketched  that  mouse  in 
the  barn  just  last  week  and  tied  it  to  a  string 
and  let  it  run  at  'em  all  day  to  get  'em  used 
to  rats  and  things  just  like  boys."  And  the 
268 


THE    EXODUS 

General  cast  a  look  of  disappointed  scorn  at 
the  two  pigtailed  heads,  downcast  at  this  fail- 
ure of  theirs  to  respond  to  the  General's  ef- 
fort to  inoculate  their  feminine  natures  with 
masculine  courage. 

"I  hollo  red  'fore  I  knewed  what  at,"  an- 
swered the  abashed  Jennie  in  a  very  small 
voice,  unconsciously  making  further  display  of 
the  force  of  her  hopeless  feminine  heredity. 
But  Peggy  switched  her  small  skirts  in  an  en- 
tirely different  phase  of  femininity. 

"You  never  heard  me  holler,"  she  said  in 
a  tone  that  was  skilful  admixture  of  defiance 
and  tentative  propitiation. 

"  'Cause  you  had  your  head  hid  in  Jennie's 
back,"  answered  the  General  coolly  unbeguiled. 
"Here  is  the  letter  we  corned  to  bring  you, 
Rose  Mamie,  and  me  and  Tobe  must  go  back 
to  help  Mis'  Rucker  some  more  clean  Mr. 
Crabtree  up.  I  don't  reckon  she  needs  Peg 
and  Jennie,  but  they  can  come  if  they  want  to," 
with  which  Stonie  and  Tobe,  the  henchman, 
269 


^          ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

departed,  and  not  at  all  abashed  the  humble 
small  women  trailing  respectfully  behind  them. 

"That  women  folks  are  the  touch-off  to  the 
whole  explosion!  of  life  is  a  hard  lesson  to 
learn  for  some  men,  and  Stonie  Jackson  is  one 
of  that  kind,"  observed  Uncle  Tucker  as  he 
looked  with  a  quizzical  expression  after  the 
small  procession.  "Want  me  to  read  that  let- 
ter and  tell  you  what's  in  it?"  he  further 
remarked,  shifting  both  expression  and  atten- 
tion on  to  Rose  Mary,  who  stood  at  his  side. 

"No,  I'll  read  it  myself  and  tell  you  what's 
in  it,"  answered  Rose  Mary  with  a  blush  and 
a  smile.  "I  haven't  written  him  about  our 
troubles,  because — because  he  hasn't  got  a  po- 
sition yet  and  I  don't  want  to  trouble  him  while 
he  is  lonely  and  discouraged." 

"Well,  I  reckon  that's  right,"  answered 
Uncle  Tucker  still  in  a  bantering  frame  of 
mind  that  it  delighted  Rose  Mary  to  see  him 
maintain  under  the  situation.  "Come  trouble, 
some  women  like  to  blind  a  man  with  cotton 
270 


THE    EXODUS 

wool  while  they  wade  through  the  high  water 
and  only  holler  for  help  when  their  petticoats 
are  down  around  their  ankles  on  the  far  bank. 
We'll  wait  and  send  Everett  a  photagraf  of 
me  and  you  dishing  out  molasses  and  lard  as 
grocer  clerks.  And  glad  to  do  it,  too!"  he 
added  with  a  sudden  fervor  of  thankfulness 
rising  in  his  voice  and  great  gray  eyes. 

"Yes,  Uncle  Tucker,  glad  and  proud  to 
do  it,"  answered  Rose  Mary  quickly.  "Oh, 
don't  you  know  that  if  you  hadn't  seen  and 
understood  because  you  loved  me  so,  I  would 
have  felt  it  was  right  to  do — to  do  what  was 
so  horrible  to  me?  I  will — I  will  make  up  to 
you  and  them  for  keeping  me  from — it.  What 
do  you  suppose  Mr.  Newsome  will  do  when  he 
finds  out  that  you  have  moved  and  are  ready 
to  turn  the  place  over  to  him,  even  without  any 
foreclosure?" 

"Well,  speculating  on  what  men  are  a-going 
to  do  in  this  life  is  about  like  trying  to  read 
turkey  tracks  in  the  mud  by  the  spring-house, 
271 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

and  I'm  not  wasting  any  time  on  Gid  New- 
some's  splay-footed  impressions.  Come  to- 
morrow night  I'm  a-going  to  pull  the  front 
door  to  for  the  last  time  on  all  of  us  and  early 
next  morning  Tom  Crabtree's  a-going  to  take 
the  letter  and  deed  down  to  Gid  in  his  office  in 
the  city  for  me.  Don't  nobody  have  to  fore- 
close on  me;  I  hand  back  my  debt  dollar  for 
dollar  outen  my  own  pocket  without  no  duns. 
To  give  up  the  land  immediate  are  just  simple 
justice  to  him,  and  I'm  a-leaving  the  Lord  to 
deal  with  him  for  trying  to  buy  a  woman  in 
her  time  of  trouble.  We  haven't  told  it  on 
him  and  we  are  never  a-going  to.  I  wisht  I 
could  make  the  neighbors  all  see  the  jestice  in 
his  taking  over  the  land  and  not  feel  so  spited 
at  him.  I'm  afraid  it  will  lose  him  every  vote 
along  Providence  Road.  'Tain't  right !" 

"I   know   it   isn't,"   answered    Rose   Mary. 

"But  when  Mrs.  Rucker  speaks  her  mind  about 

him  and  Bob  chokes  and  swells  up  my  heart 

gets  warm.     Do  you   suppose  it's   wrong  to 

272 


THE    EXODUS 

let  a  friend's  trouble  heat  sympathy  to  the 
boiling  point?  But  if  you  don't  need  me  I'm 
going  down  to  the  milk-house  to  work  out 
my  last  batch  of  butter  before  they  come  to 
drive  away  my  cows."  And  Rose  Mary  hur- 
ried down  the  lilac  path  before  Uncle  Tucker 
could  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  tears  that  rose  at 
the  idea  of  having  to  give  up  the  beloved  Mrs. 
Butter  and  her  tribe  of  gentle-eyed  daughters. 
And  as  she  stood  in  the  cool  gray  depths  of 
the  old  milk-house  Rose  Mary's  gentle  heart 
throbbed  with  pain  as  she  pressed  the  great 
cakes  of  the  golden  treasure  back  and  forth  in 
the  blue  bowl,  for  it  was  a  quiet  time  and  Rose 
Mary  was  tearing  up  some  of  her  own  roots. 
Her  sad  eyes  looked  out  over  Harpeth  Valley, 
which  lay  in  a  swoon  with  the  midsummer 
heat.  The  lush  blue-grass  rose  almost  knee 
deep  around  the  grazing  cattle  in  the  meadows, 
and  in  the  fields  the  green  grain  was  fast  turn- 
ing to  a  harvest  hue.  Almost  as  far  as  her 
eyes  could  reach  along  Providence  Road  and 
273 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

across  the  pastures  to  Providence  Nob,  beyond 
Tilting  Rock,  the  land  was  Alloway  land  and 
had  been  theirs  for  what  seemed  always.  She 
could  remember  what  each  good-by  to  it  all 
had  been  when  she  had  gone  out  over  the  Ridge 
in  her  merry  girlhood  and  how  overflowing 
with  joy  each  return.  Then  had  come  the  time 
when  it  had  become  still  dearer  as  a  refuge  into 
which  she  could  bring  her  torn  heart  for  its 
healing. 

And  such  a  healing  the  Valley  had  given 
her  J  It  had  poured  the  fragrance  of  its  bloom- 
ing springs  and  summers  over  her  head,  she 
had  drunk  the  wine  of  forgetfulness  in  the  cup 
of  long  Octobers  and  the  sting  of  its  wind  and 
rain  and  snow  on  her  cheeks  had  brought  back 
the  grief-faded  roses.  The  arms  of  the  hearty 
Harpeth  women  had  been  outheld  to  her,  and 
in  turn  she  had  had  their  babies  and  troubles 
laid  on  her  own  breast  for  her  and  their  com- 
forting. She  had  been  mothered  and  sistered 
and  brothered  by  these  farmer  folk  with  a  very 
274 


THE    EXODUS 

prodigality  of  friendship,  and  to-day  she  real- 
ized more  than  ever  with  positive  exultation 
that  she  was  brawn  of  their  brawn  and  built  of 
their  building. 

And  then  to  her,  a  woman  of  the  fields,  had 
come  down  Providence  Road  over  the  Ridge 
from  the  great  world  outside — the  miracle. 
She  slipped  her  hand  into  her  pocket  for  just 
one  rapturous  crush  of  the  treasure-letter  when 
suddenly  it  was  borne  in  upon  her  that  it  might 
be  that  even  that  must  come  to  an  end  for  her. 
Stay  she  must  by  her  nest  of  helpless  folk,  and 
was  it  with  futile  wings  he  was  breasting  the 
great  outer  currents  of  which  she  was  so  igno- 
rant? His  letters  told  her  nothing  of  what  he 
was  doing,  just  were  filled  to  the  word  with 
half -spoken  love  and  longing  and,  above  all, 
with  a  great  impatience  about  what,  or  for 
what,  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  understand. 
She  could  only  grieve  over  it  and  long  to  com- 
fort him  with  all  the  strength  of  her  love  for 
him.  And  so  with  thinking,  puzzling  and  sad 

275 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

planning  the  afternoon  wore  away  for  her  and 
sunset  found  her  at  the  house  putting  the 
household  in  order  and  to  bed  with  her  usual 
cheery  fostering  of  creaking  joints  and  cum- 
bersome retiring  ceremonies. 

At  last  she  was  at  liberty  to  fling  her  ex- 
hausted body  down  on  the  cool,  patched,  old 
linen  sheets  of  the  great  four-poster  which  had 
harbored  many  of  her  foremothers  and  let 
herself  drift  out  on  her  own  troubled  waters. 
Wrapped  in  the  compassionate  darkness  she 
was  giving  way  to  the  luxury  of  letting  the 
controlled  tears  rise  to  her  eyes  and  the  sobs 
that  her  white  throat  ached  from  suppressing 
all  day  were  echoing  on  the  stillness  when  a 
voice  came  from  the  little  cot  by  her  bed  and 
the  General  in  disheveled  nightshirt  and  rum- 
pled head  rose  by  her  pillow  and  stood  with 
uncertain  feet  on  his  own  springy  place  of 
repose. 

"Rose  Mamie,"  he  demanded  in  an  awe- 
struck tone  of  voice  that  fairly  trembled 
276 


THE    EXODUS 

through  the  darkness,  "are  you  a-crying?" 

"Yes,  Stonie,"  she  answered  in  a  shame- 
forced  gurgle  that  would  have  done  credit  to 
Jennie  Rucker  in  her  worst  moments  of  abase- 
ment before  the  force  of  the  General. 

"Does  your  stomach  hurt  you?"  he  de- 
manded in  a  practical  though  sympathetic  tone 
of  voice,  for  so  far  in  his  journey  along  life's 
road  his  sleep  had  only  been  disturbed  by  re- 
tributive digestive  causes. 

"No,"  sniffed  Rose  Mary  with  a  sob  that 
was  tinged  with  a  small  laugh.  "It's  my  heart, 
darling,"  she  added,  the  sob  getting  the  best  of 
the  situation.  "Oh,  Stonie,  Stonie!" 

"Now,  wait  a  minute,  Rose  Mamie,"  ex- 
claimed the  General  as  he  climbed  up  and 
perched  himself  on  the  edge  of  the  big  bed. 
"Have  you  done  anything  you  are  afraid  to  tell 
God  about?" 

"No,"  came  from  the  depths  of  Rose  Mary's 
pillow. 

"Then  don't  cry  because  you  think  Mr.  Mark 
277 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

ain't  coming  back,  like  Mis'  Rucker  said  she 
was  afraid  you  was  grieving  about  when  she 
thought  I  wasn't  a-listening.  He's  a-coming 
back.  Me  and  him  have  got  a  bargain." 

"What  about,  Stonie?"  came  in  a  much 
clearer  voice  from  the  pillow,  and  Rose  Mary 
curled  herself  over  nearer  to  the  little  bird 
perched  on  the  edge  of  her  bed. 

"About  a  husband  for  you,"  answered  Stonie 
in  the  reluctant  voice  that  a  man  usually  uses 
when  circumstances  force  him  into  taking  a 
woman  into  his  business  confidence.  "Looked 
to  me  like  everybody  here  was  a-going  to  marry 
everybody  else  and  leave  you  out,  so  I  asked 
him  to  get  you  one  up  in  New  York  and  I'd 
pay  him  for  doing  it.  He's  a-going  to  bring 
him  here  on  the  cars  his  own  self  lest  he  get 
away  before  I  get  him."  And  the  picture  that 
rose  in  Rose  Mary's  mind,  of  the  reluctant 
husband  being  dragged  to  her  at  the  end  of  a 
tether  by  Everett,  cut  off  the  sob  instantly. 

"What — what  did  you — he  say  when  you 
278 


THE   EXODUS 

asked  him  about —  getting  the  husband — for 
you — for  me?"  asked  Rose  Mary  in  a  perfect 
agony  of  mirth  and  embarrassment. 

"Let  me  see,"  said  Stonie,  and  he  paused  as 
he  tried  to  repeat  Everett's  exact  words,  which 
had  been  spoken  in  a  manner  that  had  im- 
pressed them  on  the  General  at  the  time.  "He 
said  that  you  wasn't  a-going  to  have  no  hus- 
band but  the  best  kind  if  he  had  to  kill  him — 
no,  he  said  that  if  he  was  to  have  to  go  dead 
hisself  he  would  come  and  bring  him  to  me, 
when  he  got  him  good  enough  for  you  by  do- 
ing right  and  such." 

"Was  that  all?"  asked  Rose  Mary  with  a 
gurgle  that  was  well  nigh  ecstatic,  for  through 
her  had  shot  a  quiver  of  hope  that  set  every 
pulse  in  her  body  beating  hot  and  strong,  while 
her  cheeks  burned  in  the  cool  linen  of  her  pil- 
low and  her  eyes  fairly  glowed  into  the  night. 

"About  all,"  answered  the  General,  begin- 
ning to  yawn  with  the  interrupted  slumber.    "I 
told  him  your  children  would  have  to  mind 
279 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

me  and  Tobe  when  we  spoke  to  'em.  He  kinder 
choked  then  and  said  all  right.  Then  we  bear- 
hugged  for  keeps  until  he  comes  again.  I'm 
sleepy  now !" 

"Oh,  Stonie,  darling,  thank  you  for  waking 
up  and  coming  to  comfort  Rose  Mamie,"  she 
said,  and  from  its  very  fullness  a  happy  little 
sob  escaped  from  her  heart. 

"I  tell  you,  Rose  Mamie,"  said  the  General, 
instantly,  again  sympathetically  alarmed,  "I'd 
better  come  over  in  your  bed  and  go  to  sleep. 
You  can  put  your  head  on  my  shoulder  and  if 
you  cry,  getting  me  wet  will  wake  me  up  to 
keep  care  of  you  agin,  'cause  I  am  so  sleepy 
now  if  you  was  to  holler  louder  than  Tucker 
Poteet  I  wouldn't  wake  up  no  more."  And 
suiting  his  actions  to  his  proposition  the  Cen- 
tral stretched  himself  out  beside  Rose  Mary, 
buried  his  touseled  head  on  her  pillow  and  pre- 
sented a  diminutive  though  sturdy  little  shoul- 
der, against  which  she  instantly  laid  her  soft 
cheek. 

280 


THE    EXODUS 

"You  scrouge  just  like  the  puppy,"  was  his 
appreciative  comment  of  her  gentle  nestling 
against  his  little  body.  "Now  I'm  going  to 
sleep,  but  if  praying  to  God  don't  keep  you 
from  crying,  then  wake  me  up,"  and  with  this 
generous  and  really  heroic  offer  the  General 
drifted  off  again  into  the  depths,  into  which 
he  soon  drew  Rose  Mary  with  him,  comforted 
by  his  faith  and  lulled  in  his  strong  little  arms. 


281 


CHAPTER  X 

IN  THE  HOLLOW  OF  HIS  HAND 

A^D  the  next  morning  a  threatening,  scowl- 
ing, tossed-cloud  dawn  brought  the  day 
over  the  head  of  Old  Harpeth  down  upon  little 
Sweetbriar,  which  awakened  with  one  accord 
to  a  sense  of  melancholy  oppression.  A  cool, 
dust-laden  wind  blew  down  Providence  Road, 
twisted  the  branches  of  the  tall  maples  along 
the  way,  tore  roughly  at  the  festoons  of  bloom- 
ing vines  over  the  gables  of  the  Briars,  startled 
the  nestled  doves  into  a  sad  crooning,  whipped 
mercilessly  at  the  row  of  tall  hollyhocks  along 
the  garden  fence,  flaunted  the  long  spikes  of 
jack-beans  and  carried  their  quaint  fragrance 
to  pour  it  over  the  bed  of  sober-colored  mig- 
nonette, mixing  it  with  the  pungent  zinnia  odor 
and  flinging  it  all  over  into  the  clover  field 
282 


IN   THE   HOLLOW    OF    HIS   HAND 

across  the  briar  hedge.  The  jovial  old  sun 
did  his  very  best  to  light  up  the  situation,  but 
just  as  he  would  succeed  in  getting  a  ray  down 
into  the  Valley  a  great  puffy  cloud  would  cast 
a  gray  shadow  of  suppression  over  his  effort 
and  retire  him  sternly  for  another  half  hour. 

And  on  the  wings  of  the  intruding,  out-of- 
season  wind  came  a  train  of  ills.  Young 
Tucker  Poteet  waked  at  daylight  and  howled 
dismally  with  a  pain  that  seemed  to  be  all  over 
and  then  in  spots.  When  he  went  to  take  down 
the  store  shutters  Mr.  Crabtree  smashed  one 
of  his  large,  generous-spreading  thumbs  and 
Mrs.  Rucker's  breakfast  eggs  burned  to  a  cin- 
der state  while  she  tied  it  up  in  camphor  for 
him.  In  the  night  a  mosquito  had  taken  a  bite 
out  of  the  end  of  Jennie's  small  nose  and  it 
was  swelled  to  twice  its  natural  size,  and  Peter, 
the  wise,  barked  a  plump  shin  before  he  was 
well  out  of  the  trundle  bed.  One  of  young 
Bob's  mules  broke  away  and  necessitated  a 
trip  half  way  up  to  Providence  for  his  cap- 
283 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

ture,  and  Mrs.  Plunkett  had  Louisa  Helen  so 
busy  at  some  domestic  manoeuvers  that  she 
found  it  impossible  to  go  with  him. 

And  before  noon  the  whole  village  was  in 
a  fervid  state  of  commotion.  Mrs.  Rucker  had 
insisted  on  moving  Mr.  Crabtree  and  all  his 
effects  over  into  the  domicile  of  his  prospective 
bride,  regardless  of  both  her  and  his  abashed 
remonstrance. 

"Them  squeems  are  all  foolishness,  Lou 
Plunkett,"  she  had  answered  a  faint  plea  from 
the  widow  for  a  delay  until  after  the  cere- 
mony for  this  material  mingling  of  the  to-be- 
united  lives.  "It's  all  right  and  proper  for  you 
and  Mr.  Crabtree  to  be  married  at  night  meet- 
ing Sunday,  and  his  things  won't  be  unmar- 
ried in  your  house  only  through  Saturday  and 
Sunday.  I'm  a-going  to  pack  up  his  Sunday 
clothes,  a  pair  of  clean  socks,  a  shirt  and  other 
things  in  this  basket.  Then  I'll  fix  him  up  a 
shake-down  in  my  parlor  to  spend  Saturday 
night  in,  and  I'll  dress  him  up  nice  and  fine 
284 


IN    THE    HOLLOW    OF    HIS    HAND 

for  the  wedding  you  may  be  sure.  We  ain't 
got  but  this  day  to  move  him  out  and  clean  up 
the  house  good  to  move  Rose  Mary  and  the 
old  folks  into  early  Saturday  morning,  so  just 
come  on  and  get  to  work.  You  can  shut  your 
eyes  to  his  things  setting  around  your  house 
for  just  them  one  day  or  two,  can't  you  ?" 

"They  ain't  nothing  in  this  world  I  couldn't 
do  to  make  it  just  the  littlest  mite  easier  for 
Rose  Mary  and  them  sweet  old  folks,  even  to 
gettin'  my  house  into  a  unseemly  married  con- 
dition before  hand,"  answered  Mrs.  Plunkett 
as  she  brushed  a  tear  away  from  her  blue  eyes. 

"That's  the  way  we  all  feel,"  said  Mrs. 
Rucker.  "Now  if  I  was  you  I'd  give  Mr. 
Crabtree  that  middle  bureau  drawer.  Men  are 
apt  to  poke  things  away  careless  if  they  has 
the  top,  and  the  bottom  one  is  best  to  use  for 
your  own  things.  Mr.  Satterwhite  always 
kept  his  clothes  so  it  were  a  pleasure  to  look 
at  'em,  but  Cal  Rucker  prefers  a  pair  of  socks 
separated  across  the  house  if  he  can  get  them 
285 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

there.  I  found  one  of  his  undershirts  full  of 
mud  and  stuck  away  in  the  kitchen  safe  with 
the  cup  towels  last  week.  There  comes  Mis' 
Poteet  to  help  at  last !  I  never  heard  anything 
yell  like  Tucker  has  been  doing  all  morning. 
Is  he  quiet  at  last,  Mis'  Poteet?" 

"Yes,  I  reckon  he's  gave  out  all  the  holler 
that's  in  him,  but  I'm  afraid  to  put  him  down," 
and  Mrs.  Poteet  continued  the  joggling,  sway- 
ing motion  to  a  blue  bundle  on  her  breast  that 
she  had  been  administering  as  a  continuous 
performance  to  young  Tucker  since  daylight. 
"I'm  sorry  I  couldn't  come  help  you  all  with 
the  moving,  but  you  can  count  on  my  mop  and 
broom  over  to  the  store  all  afternoon,  soon  as 
I  can  turn  him  over  to  the  children." 

"We  ain't  needed  you  before,  but  now  we 
have  got  Mr.  Crabtree  all  settled  down  here 
with  Mrs.  Plunkett  we  can  get  to  work  on  his 
house  right  after  dinner.  Have  you  been  over 
to  the  Briars  to  see  'em  in  the  last  hour?" 
286 


IN    THE    HOLLOW    OF    HIS    HAND 

"Yes,  I  come  by  there,  but  they  didn't  seem 
to  need  me.  Miss  Viney  has  got  Miss  Amandy 
and  Tobe  and  the  General  at  work,  and  Rose 
Mary  has  gone  down  to  the  dairy  to  pack  up 
the  last  batch  of  butter  for  Mr.  Crabtree  to 
take  to  the  city  in  the  morning.  Mr.  Tucker's 
still  going  over  things  in  the  barn,  and  my 
feelings  riz  so  I  had  to  come  away  for  fear  of 
me  and  little  Tucker  both  busting  out  crying." 

And  over  at  the  Briars  the  scenes  of  exodus 
being  enacted  were  well  calculated  to  touch  a 
heart  sterner  than  that  of  the  gentle,  sympa- 
thetic and  maternal  Mrs.  Poteet.  Chilled  by 
the  out-of-season  wind  Miss  Lavinia  had  awa- 
kened with  as  bad  a  spell  of  rheumatism  as 
she  had  had  for  a  year  and  it  was  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  that  Rose  Mary  had  suc- 
ceeded in  rubbing  down  the  pain  to  a  state 
where  she  could  be  propped  up  in  bed  to  direct 
little  Miss  Amanda  and  the  children  in  the  last 
sad  rites  of  getting  things  into  shape  to  be  car- 
287 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

ried  across  the  road  at  the  beginning  of  the 
morrow,  which  was  the  day  Uncle  Tucker  had 
sternly  set  as  that  of  his  abdication. 

Feebly,  Miss  Amanda  tottered  about  trying 
to  carry  out  her  sister's  orders  and  patiently 
the  General  and  Tobe  labored  to  help  her, 
though  their  hearts  were  really  over  at  the 
store,  where  the  rest  of  the  Swarm  were,  in  the 
midst  of  the  excitement  of  Mr.  Crabtree's 
change  of  residence.  In  all  their  young  lives 
of  varied  length  they  had  never  before  had  an 
opportunity  to  witness  the  upheaval  of  a  mov- 
ing and  this  occasion  was  frought  with  a  well- 
nigh  insupportable  fascination.  The  General's 
remaining  at  the  post  of  family  duty  and  his 
command  of  his  henchman  to  the  same  sacri- 
fice was  indeed  remarkable,  though  in  a  way 
pathetic. 

"You,  Stonewall  Jackson,  don't  handle  those 

chiny  vases  careless !"  commanded  Aunt  Viney 

in  a  stern  voice.     "Put  'em  in  the  basket  right 

side  up,  for  they  were  your  great  grandmoth- 

288 


IN    THE    HOLLOW    OF    HIS   HAND 

er's  wedding-present  from  Mister  Bradford 
from  Arkansas." 

"Yes'm,"  answered  Stonie,  duly  impressed. 
"But  I've  done  packed  'em  in  four  different 
baskets  for  you,  and  if  this  one  don't  do  all 
right,  can't  me  and  Tobe  together  carry  'em 
over  the  Road  to-morrow  careful  for  you, 
Aunt  Viney?" 

"Well,  yes,  then  you  can  take  'em  out  and  set 
'em  back  in  their  places,"  answered  Miss  La- 
vinia,  which  order  was  carried  out  faithfully 
by  the  General,  with  a  generous  disregard  of 
the  fact  that  he  had  been  laboring  over  them 
under  a  fire  of  directions  for  more  than  a  half- 
hour. 

"Now,  Amandy,  come  away  from  those 
flower  cans  and  get  out  the  grave  clothes  from 
the  bureau  drawers  and  let  the  boys  wrap 
them  in  that  old  sheet  first  and  then  in  the 
newspapers  and  then  put  'em  in  that  box  trunk 
with  brass  tacks  over  there!"  directed  Miss 
Lavinia  as  Miss  Amandy  wandered  over  by  the 
289 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

window,  along  which  stood  a  row  of  tomato 
cans  into  which  were  stuck  slips  of  all  the  vines 
and  plants  on  the  land  of  the  Briars,  ready  for 
transportation  across  Providence  Road  when 
the  time  came.  There  was  something  so  in- 
tensely pathetic  in  this  effort  of  the  fast-fading 
little  old  woman  to  begin  to  bud  from  the  old 
life  flower-plants  to  blossom  in  a  new  one,  into 
which  she  could  hardly  expect  to  make  more 
than  the  shortest  journey,  that  even  the  Gen- 
eral's young  and  inexperienced  heart  was 
moved  to  a  quick  compassion. 

"I'm  a-going  to  carry  the  flowers  over  and 
plant  'em  careful  for  you,  Aunt  Amandy,"  he 
said  as  he  sidled  up  close  to  her  and  put  his 
arm  around  her  with  a  protective  gesture. 
"We'll  water  'em  twice  a  day  and  just  make 
'em  grow,  won't  we,  Tobe?" 

"Bucketfuls  'til  we  drap,"  answered  Tobe 
with  a  sympathy  equal  to  and  a  courage  as 
great  as  that  of  his  superior  officer. 

"Is  the  blue  myrtle  sprig  offen  the  graves 
290 


IN    THE    HOLLOW    OF    HIS    HAND 

holding  up  its  leaves,  Amandy?"  asked  Miss 
Lavinia  in  a  softened  tone  of  voice. 

"Yes,  it's  doing  fine,"  answered  Miss 
Amandy,  bending  over  to  the  last  of  the  row 
of  cans. 

"Then  come  on  and  get  out  the  burying 
things  and  let's  get  that  job  over,"  Miss  La- 
vinia continued,  to  insist.  "Don't  get  our 
things  mixed!  Remember  that  my  grave  shift 
has  got  nothing  but  a  seemly  stitched  band  on 
it  while  you  would  have  linen  lace  on  yours. 
And  don't  let  anything  get  wrinkled.  I  don't 
want  to  rise  on  Judgment  Day  looking  like  I 
needed  the  pressing  of  a  hot  iron.  Now  pull 
out  the  trunk,  boys,  lift  out  the  tray  so  as  I 
can—" 

But  at  this  juncture  Rose  Mary  appeared  at 
the  door  with  a  tray  on  which  stood  a  bowl  of 
soup,  and  Miss  Lavinia  lay  back  on  her  pillows 
weakly,  with  the  fire  all  gone  out  of  her  eyes 
and  exhaustion  written  on  every  line  of  her 
determined  old  face. 

291 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

"Go  get  dinner,  everybody,  so  we  can  get 
back  to  work,"  she  directed  weakly  as  she 
raised  the  spoon  to  her  lips  and  then  rested  a 
moment  before  she  could  take  another  sip. 
And  with  the  last  spoonful  she  looked  up  and 
whispered  to  Rose  Mary,  "You'll  have  to  do 
the  rest  child,  I  can't  drive  any  farther  with 
a  broke  heart.  I've  got  to  lay  myself  in  the 
arms  of  prayer  and  go  to  sleep."  And  so 
rested,  Rose  Mary  left  her. 

Then  rinding  the  motive  powers  which  had 
been  driving  her  removed,  little  Miss  Amandy 
stole  away  to  the  cedar  grove  behind  the  gar- 
den fence,  the  boys  scampered  with  the  great- 
est glee  across  the  Road  to  the  scene  of  mop 
and  broom  action  behind  the  store,  and  Uncle 
Tucker  stiffly  mounted  old  Gray  to  drive  the 
cows  away  to  their  separate  homes.  The 
thrifty  neighbors  had  been  glad  to  buy  and  pay 
him  cash  for  the  sleek  animals,  and  their  price 
had  been  the  small  capital  which  had  been 
available  for  Uncle  Tucker  to  embark  on  the 
292 


IN    THE    HOLLOW   OF    HIS   HAND 

commercial  seas  in  partnership  with  Mr.  Crab- 
tree. 

Thus  left  to  herself  in  the  old  house,  Rose 
Mary  wandered  from  room  to  room  trying  to 
put  things  in  shape  for  the  morrow's  moving 
and  breasting  her  deep  waters  with  what 
strength  she  could  summons.  Up  to  this  last 
day  some  strange  hope  had  buoyed  her  up,  and 
it  was  only  at  this  moment  when  the  inevitable 
was  so  plainly  closing  down  upon  her  and  her 
helpless  old  people  that  the  bitterness  of  de- 
spair rose  in  her  heart.  Against  the  uprooting 
of  their  feebleness  her  whole  nature  cried  out, 
and  the  sacrifice  that  had  been  offered  her  in 
the  milk-house  days  before,  seemed  but  a  small 
price  to  pay  to  avert  the  tragedy.  Doubt  of 
herself  and  her  motives  assailed  her,  and  she 
quivered  in  every  nerve  when  she  thought  that 
thus  she  had  failed  them.  What!  Was  she  to 
save  herself  and  let  the  sorrow  fall  on  their 
bent  shoulders?  Was  it  too  late?  Her  heart 
answered  her  that  it  was,  for  her  confession 
293 


ROSE    OF   OLD    HARPETH 

of  horror  of  her  purchaser  to  Uncle  Tucker 
had  cut  off  any  hope  of  deceiving  him  and  she 
knew  he  would  be  burned  at  the  stake  before 
he  would  let  her  make  the  sacrifice.  She 
was  helpless,  helpless  to  safeguard  them  from 
this  sorrow,  as  helpless  as  they  themselves ! 

For  a  long  hour  she  stood  at  the  end  of  the 
porch,  looking  across  at  Providence  Nob,  be- 
hind whose  benevolent  head  the  storm  clouds 
of  the  day  were  at  last  sinking,  lit  by  the  glow 
of  the  fast-setting  sun.  The  wind  had  died 
down  and  a  deep  peace  was  settling  over  the 
Valley,  like  a  benediction  from  the  coming 
night.  Just  for  strength  to  go  on,  Rose  Mary 
prayed  out  to  the  dim,  blue  old  ridge  and  then 
turned  to  her  ministrations  to  her  assembling 
household. 

Uncle  Tucker  was  so  tired  that  he  hardly  ate 
the  supper  set  before  him,  and  before  the  last 
soft  rays  of  the  sun  had  entirely  left  the  Valley 
he  had  smoked  his  pipe  and  gone  to  bed. 
294 


IN    THE   HOLLOW    OF    HIS   HAND 

And  soon  in  his  wake  retired  the  General, 
with  two  of  the  small  dogs  to  bear  him  com- 
pany in  his  white  cot.  But  the  settling  of  Miss 
Lavinia  for  the  night  had  been  long,  and  had 
brought  Rose  Mary  almost  to  the  point  of  ex- 
haustion. Tired  out  by  her  afternoon  over  in 
the  little  graveyard,  Miss  Amanda  had  not  the 
strength  to  read  the  usual  chapters  of  retiring 
service  that  Miss  Lavinia  always  required  of 
her,  and  so  Rose  Mary  drew  the  candle  close 
beside  the  bed  and  attempted  to  go  on  with  her 
rubbing  and  read  at  the  same  time.  And 
though,  if  read  she  must,  the  very  soul  of  Rose 
Mary  panted  for  the  comfort  of  some  of  the 
lines  of  the  Sweet  Singer,  Aunt  Viney  held 
her  strictly  to  the  words  of  her  favorite  thun- 
derer,  Jeremiah,  and  little  Aunt  Amandy 
bunched  up  under  the  cover  across  the  bed 
fairly  shook  with  terror  as  she  buried  her  head 
in  her  pillow  to  keep  out  the  rolling  words  of 
invective  that  began  with  an  awful  "Harken" 

295 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

and  ended  with  "Woe  is  me  now,  for  my  soul 
is  wearied!" 

"Now,"  concluded  Miss  Lavinia,  "you  can 
put  out  the  light,  Rose  Mary,  and  if  me  and 
Amandy  was  to  open  our  eyes  on  the  other  side 
of  the  river  it  would  be  but  a  good,  thing  for 
us.  Lay  the  Bible  in  that  newspaper  on  top  of 
that  pile  of  Christian  Advocates,  with  a  string 
to  tie  'em  all  up  after  morning  lesson,  to  be 
carried  away.  The  Lord  bless  and  keep  you, 
child,  and  don't  forget  to  latch  the  front  door 
on  us  all  for  the  last  time !" 

Softly  Rose  Mary  drew  the  door  partly 
closed  and  left  them  in  the  quiet  of  the  fast- 
deepening  purple  dusk.  She  peeped  into  Uncle 
Tucker's  room  and  assured  herself  by  his 
sonorous  breathing  that  rest  at  last  was  com- 
forting him,  and  for  a  moment  in  her  own 
room  she  bent  over  the  little  cot  where  the 
General  and  his  two  spotted  servitors  lay 
curled  up  in  a  tangle  and  fast  in  the  depths 
of  sleep.  Then  she  opened  wide  the  old  hall 
296 


IN    THE    HOLLOW    OF    HIS    HAND 

door  that  had  for  more  than  a  century  swung 
over  the  sill  marked  off  by  the  length  of  the 
intrepid  English  foremother  who  had  tramped 
the  wilderness  trail  to  possess  what  she,  her- 
self, was  giving  up. 

And  as  she  stood  desperate,  at  bay,  with  her 
nest  storm  tossed  and  threatened,  suddenly  the 
impossibility  of  it  all  came  down  upon  her, 
and  stern  with  a  very  rigidity  of  resolve  she 
went  into  the  house,  lighted  a  candle  by  the  old 
desk  in  the  hall,  and  wrote  swiftly  a  few  words 
of  desperate  summons  to  the  Senator.  She 
knew  that  Friday  night  always  found  him  over 
the  fields  at  Boliver,  and  she  told  him  briefly 
the  situation  and  asked  him  to  come  over  in 
the  early  morning  to  the  rescue — and  sacrifice. 

When  she  had  first  come  out  on  the  porch 
she  had  seen  young  Bob  ride  up  to  the  store 
on  one  of  his  colts,  and  she  ran  fleetly  down  to 
the  front  gate  and  called  to  him.  He  con- 
sented instantly  to  ride  over  and  deliver  the 
note  for  her,  but  he  shot  an  uneasy  glance  at 
297 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

her  from  beneath  his  wide  hat  as  he  put  the 
letter  in  his  pocket. 

"Is  anything  wrong,  Miss  Rose  Mary?"  he 
asked  anxiously  but  respectfully. 

"No,  Bob,  dear,  nothing  that — that  I  can't 
make — right,"  she  answered  in  a  soft,  tearless 
voice,  and  as  he  got  on  his  horse  and  rode 
away  she  came  slowly  up  the  long  front  walk 
that  was  moonflecked  from  the  leaves  of  the 
tall  trees.  Then  once  more  she  stood  on  the 
old  door  sill — at  bay. 

And  as  she  looked  at  the  old  Ridge  across 
the  sweet,  blooming  clover-fields,  with  the 
darkened  house  behind  her,  again  the  waters 
of  despair  rose  breast-high  and  heart-high,  beat 
against  her  aching  throat  and  were  just  about 
to  dash  over  her  head  as  she  stretched  out  one 
arm  to  the  hills  and  with  a  broken  cry  bent 
her  white  forehead  in  the  curve  of  the  other, 
but  suddenly  bent  head,  tear-blinded  eyes, 
quivering  breast  and  supplicating  arms  were 
folded  tight  in  a  strong  embrace  and  warm, 
298 


thirsty  lips  pressed  against  the  tears  on  her 
cheeks  as  Everett's  voice  with  a  choke  and  a 
gulp  made  its  way  into  her  consciousness. 

"I  feel  like  shaking  the  very  life  out  of  you, 
Rose  Mary  Alloway,"  was  his  tender  form  of 
greeting. 

"You're  squeezing  it  out,"  came  in  all  the 
voice  that  Rose  Mary  could  command  for  an 
answer.  And  the  broad-shouldered,  burden- 
bearing,  independent  woman  that  was  the  Rose 
of  Old  Harpeth  melted  into  just  a  tender  girl 
who  crushed  her  heart  against  her  lover's  and 
clung  as  meekly  as  any  slip  of  vine  to  her 
young  lord  oak.  "But  I  don't  care,"  she  fin- 
ished up  under  his  chin.  And  Everett's  laugh 
that  greeted  and  accepted  her  unexpected 
meekness  rang  through  the  hall  and  brought  a 
commotion  in  answer. 

The  wee  dogs,  keen  both  of  ear  and  scent, 

shot  like   small   electric  volts   from   Stonie's 

couch,  hurled  themselves  through  the  hall  and 

sprang    almost    waist-high    against    Everett's 

299 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

side  in  a  perfect  ecstasy  of  welcome.  They 
yelped  and  barked  and  whined  and  nosed  in 
a  tumbling  heap  of  palpitating  joy  until  he 
was  obliged  to  hold  Rose  Mary  in  one  arm 
while  he  made  an  attempt  to  respond  to  and 
abate  their  enthusiasm  with  the  other. 

"Now,  now,  that's  all  right!  Nice  dogs, 
nice  dogs!"  he  was  answering  and  persuading, 
when  a  stern  call  from  the  depths  of  Miss 
Lavinia's  room,  the  door  of  which  Rose  Mary 
had  left  ajar,  abstracted  her  from  Everett's 
arm  on  the  instant  and  sent  her  hurrying  to 
answer  the  summons. 

"Is  that  young  man  come  back  ?  and  light  the 
candle,"  Miss  Lavinia  demanded  and  com- 
manded in  the  same  breath.  And  just  as  Rose 
Mary  flared  up  the  dim  light  on  the  table  by  the 
bed  Everett  himself  stood  in  the  doorway. 
With  one  glance  his  keen  eyes  took  in  the  situ- 
ation in  the  dim  room  in  which  the  two  old 
wayfarers  lay  prepared  for  the  morning  jour- 
ney, and  what  Miss  Lavinia's  stately  and 
300 


IN    THE    HOLLOW   OF    HIS    HAND 

proper  greeting  would  have  been  to  him  none 
of  them  ever  knew,  for  with  a  couple  of  strides 
he  was  over  by  the  bed  at  Rose  Mary's  side  and 
had  taken  the  stern  old  lady  into  his  strong 
arms  and  landed  a  kiss  on  the  ruffle  of  white 
nightcap  just  over  her  left  ear. 

"No  leaving  the  Briars  this  season,  Miss  La- 
vinia,"  he  said  in  a  laughing,  choking  voice  as 
he  bent  across  and  extracted  one  of  little  Miss 
Amandy's  hands  from  the  tight  bunch  she  had 
curled  herself  into  under  the  edge  of  her  pil- 
low and  bestowed  a  squeeze  thereon.  "It's  all 
fixed  up  over  at  Boliver  this  afternoon. 
There's  worse  than  oil  on  the  place — and  it's 
all  yours  now  for  keeps."  With  Rose  Mary 
in  his  arms  Everett  had  entirely  forgotten  to 
announce  to  her  such  a  minor  fact  as  the  sav- 
ing of  her  lands  and  estate,  but  to  the  two  little 
old  ladies  his  sympathy  had  made  him  give 
the  words  of  reprieve  with  his  first  free  breath. 
The  bundles  on  the  floor  and  the  old  trunk  had 
smote  his  heart  with  a  fierce  pain  that  the  im- 
301 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

pulsive  warmth  of  his  greeting  and  the  telling 
of  his  rescue  could  only  partly  ease. 

"The  news  only  reached  me  day  before — " 
he  was  going  on  to  explain  when,  candle  in 
hand,  Uncle  Tucker  appeared  in  the  doorway. 
His  long-tailed  night-shirt  flapped  around  his 
bare,  thin  old  legs,  and  every  separate  gray 
lock  stood  by  itself  and  rampant,  while  his 
eyes  seemed  deeper  and  mo-re  mystic  than  ever. 

"Well,  what's  all  this  ruckus  ?"  he  demanded 
as  he  peered  at  them  across  the  light  of  his 
candle.  "Have  any  kind  of  cyclone  blowed 
you  from  New  York  clean  across  here  to  Har- 
peth  Valley,  boy?" 

"He  has  come  back  with  the  mercy  of  our 
Lord  in  his  hands  to  save  our  home ;  and  you 
go  put  on  your  pants  before  your  pipes  get 
chilled,  Tucker  Alloway,"  answered  Aunt  Vi- 
ney  in  her  most  militant  tone  of  voice.  "And, 
Rose  Mary,  you  can  take  that  young  man  on 
out  of  here  now  so  Amandy  can  take  that 
shame-faced  head  of  hers  out  of  that  feather 
302 


IN    THE   HOLLOW    OF    HIS    HAND 

pillow.  It's  all  on  account  of  that  tored  place  in 
her  night-cap  I  told  her  to  mend.  You  needn't 
neither  of  you  come  back  no  more,  because  we 
must  get  to  sleep,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  unpack 
before  sun-up  and  get  settled  back  for  the  day. 
And  don't  you  go  to  bed,  neither  one  of  you, 
without  reading  Jeremiah  twelfth,  first  to  last 
verse,  and  me  and  Amandy  will  do  the  same." 
With  which  Everett  found  himself  dismissed 
with  a  seeming  curtness  which  he  could  plainly 
see  was  an  heroic  control  of  emotion  in  the 
feeble  old  stoic  who  was  trembling  with  ex- 
haustion. 

Uncle  Tucker,  called  to  account  for  the  lack 
of  warmth  and  also  propriety  in  his  attire,  had 
hastened  back  to  his  own  apartment  and  Ev- 
erett found  him  sitting  up  in  his  bed,  lighting 
the  old  cob  with  trembling  fingers  but  with  his 
excitement  well  under  control.  He  listened  in- 
tently to  Everett's  hurried  but  succinct  account 
of  the  situation  and  crisis  in  his  own  and  the 
Alloway  business  affairs,  as  he  puffed  away, 
303 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

and  his  old  eyes  lighted  with  excitement  at  the 
rush  of  the  tale  of  high  finance. 

And  when  at  last  Everett  paused  for  lack 
of  breath,  after  his  dramatic  climax,  the  old 
philosopher  lay  back  on  his  high-piled  feather 
pillows  and  blinked  out  into  the  candle-light, 
puffed  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  then  made 
answer  in  his  own  quizzical  way  with  a  radiant 
smile  from  out  under  his  beetling  white  brows : 

"Well,"  he  said  between  puffs,  "looks  like 
fortune  is,  after  all,  a  curious  bird  without 
even  tail  feathers  to  steer  by  nor  for  a  man  to 
ketch  by  putting  salt  on.  Gid  failed  both  with 
a  knife  in  the  back  and  a  salt  shaker  to  ketch  it, 
but  you  were  depending  on  nothing  but  a  ring- 
dove coo,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  when  it  hopped  in 
your  hand.  I  reckon  you'll  get  your  answer." 

"Are  you  willing — to  have  me  ask  for  it, 
Mr.  Alloway?"  asked  Everett  with  a  radiant 
though  slightly  embarrassed  smile. 

"Yes,"  answered  Uncle  Tucker  as  he 
knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe  against  the 
304 


IN    THE    HOLLOW   OF    HIS   HAND 

table  and  looked  straight  into  Everett's  eyes. 
"After  a  man  has  plowed  a  honest,  straight- 
furrowed  field  in  life  it's  no  more'n  fair  for 
Providence  to  send  a-loving,  trusting  woman 
to  meet  him  at  the  bars.  Good  night,  and 
don't  forget  to  latch  the  front  door  when  you 
have  finally  torn  yourself  away  from  that 
moonlight !" 

And  the  call  of  the  young  moon  that  came 
with  the  warm  garden-scented  gusts  of  winds 
that  were  sweeping  across  Harpeth  Valley  was 
a  riot  in  Everett's  veins  as  he  made  his  way 
through  the  silent  hall  toward  the  moonlit 
porch  on  the  top  step  of  which  he  could  see 
Rose  Mary  sitting  in  the  soft  light,  but  a  lusty 
young  snore  from  a  dark  room  on  the  left 
made  him  remember  that  there  was  one  greet- 
ing he  had  missed.  He  bent  over  the  Gen- 
eral's little  cot,  across  which  lay  a  long  shaft 
of  the  white  light  from  the  hilltops,  and  was 
about  to  press  his  lips  on  the  warm,  breath- 
stirred  ones  of  the  small  boy,  but  he  restrained 
305 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

himself  in  time  from  offering  to  the  General  in 
his  defenseless  sleep  what  would  have  been  an 
insult  to  him  awake,  and  contented  himself 
with  a  most  cautious  and  manly  clasp  of  the 
chubby  little  hand. 

"Ketch  it,  Tobe,  ketch  it — don't  let  Aunt 
Viney's  vase  be  broked,"  murmured  Stonie  as 
he  turned  on  his  side  and  buried  his  head  still 
deeper  in  the  pillow. 

"No,  General,  Aunt  Viney's  vase — is — not 
going  to  be  broken,  thank  God,"  answered  Ev- 
erett under  his  breath  as  he  turned  away  and 
left  the  General,  who,  even  in  sleep,  carried  his 
responsibilities  sturdily. 

"Rose  Mary,"  he  said  a  little  later  as  he 
stood  on  the  bottom  step  below  her,  so  that 
his  eyes  were  just  on  a  level  with  hers  as  she 
sat  and  smiled  down  upon  him,  "for  a  woman, 
you  have  very  little  curiosity.  Don't  you  want 
to  ask  me  where  I've  been,  why  I  went  and 
what  I've  been  doing  every  minute  since  I  left 
you?  Can  it  be  indifference  that  makes  you 
306 


IN    THE   HOLLOW   OF   HIS   HAND 

thus  ignore  your  feminine  prerogative  of  the 
inquisition  ?" 

"I'm  beginning  at  being  glad  you  are  here. 
Joy's  just  the  white  foam  at  the  top  of  the 
cup,  and  it  ought  not  to  be  blown  away,  no 
matter — how  thirsty  one  is,  ought  it?  Now 
tell  me  what  brought  you  back — to  save  me," 
and  Rose  Mary  held  out  her  hand,  with  one 
of  her  lovely,  entreating  gestures,  while  her 
eyes  were  full  of  tender  tears.  And  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  Everett  held  himself  to  a 
condition  to  tell  her  what  he  wanted  her  to 
know  without  any  further  delay. 

"Well,"  he  answered  as  he  raised  his  lips 
from  a  joy  draft  at  the  cup  of  her  pink  palms, 
"the  immediate  cause  was  a  telegram  that 
came  Tuesday  night.  It  said  'Gid  sells  out 
Mr.  Tucker  and  wants  your  girl/  and  it  was 
signed  'Bob.'  All  these  weeks  a  bunch  of  hard 
old  goldbugs  had  been  sitting  in  conclave, 
weighing  my  evidence  and  reports  and  making 
one  inadequate  syndicating  offer  after  another. 

307 


ROSE    OF    OLD    HARPETH 

They  were  teetering  here  and  balancing  there, 
but  at  eleven  o'clock  Wednesday  morning  the 
cyclone  that  blew  me  down  here  across  Old 
Harpeth  originated  in  the  directors'  rooms  of 
the  firm,  and  I  guess  the  old  genties  are  gasp- 
ing yet. 

"I  had  that  telegram  in  my  pocket,  tickets 
for  the  three-o'clock  Southern  express  folded 
beside  'em,  and  I  put  enough  daylight  into  my 
proposition  to  dazzle  the  whole  conclave  into 
setting  signatures  to  papers  they'd  been  moling 
over  for  weeks.  I  don't  know  what  did  it,  but 
they  signed  up  and  certified  checks  in  one  large 
hurry. 

"Then  I  beat  it  and  never  drew  breath  until 
I  made  the  Farmers'  and  Traders'  Bank  in 
Boliver  this  afternoon,  covered  those  notes  of 
Mr.  Alloways,  killed  that  mortgage  and  hit 
Providence  Road  for  Sweetbriar.  I  met  Bob 
out  about  a  mile  from  town,  and  he  put  me 
next  to  the  whole  situation  and  gave  me  your 
note.  I  don't  know  which  I  came  nearest 
308 


IN    THE    HOLLOW   OF    HIS   HAND 

to,  swearing  or  crying,  but  the  Plunkett-Crab- 
tree  news  made  me  raise  a  shout  instead  of 
either.  But  if  I  did  what  I  truly  ought,  Rose 
Mary  Alloway,  I  would  shake  the  life  out  of 
you  for  not  writing  me  about  it  all.  I  may  do 
it  yet." 

"Please  don't !"  answered  Rose  Mary  with  a 
little  smile  that  still  held  its  hint  of  the  suf- 
fering she  had  gone  through.  "I  thought  you 
were  out  of  work  yourself  and  couldn't  help 
us,  and  I  didn't  want  to  trouble  you.  It  would 
have  hurt  you  so  to  know  if  you  couldn't  help 
me,  and  I  didn't — " 

"God,  that's  it !  Fool  that  I  was  to  go  away 
and  risk  leaving  you  without  an  understand- 
ing!" exclaimed  Everett  in  a  bitterly  reproach- 
ful tone  of  voice.  "But  I  was  afraid  to  let 
you  know  what  I  had  discovered  until  I  could 
get  the  money  to  settle  that  mortgage.  I  was 
afraid  that  you  or  Mr.  Alloway  would  uncon- 
sciously let  him  get  a  hint  of  the  find,  and  I 
knew  he  could  and  would  foreclose  any  minute. 
309 


ROSE   OF   OLD    HARPETH 

He  was  suspicious  of  me  and  my  prospecting, 
anyway,  and  as  he  was  an  old,  and  as  you  both 
thought,  tested  friend,  what  way  did  I  have 
of  proving  him  the  slob  I  knew  him  to  be?  1 
thought  it  best  to  go  and  get  the  company 
formed,  the  option  money  paid  to  cover  the 
mortgage  and  all  of  it  out  of  h's  hands  before 
he  could  have  any  chance  to  get  into  the  game 
at  all.  And  that  was  really  the  best  way  to 
manage  it— only  I  hadn't  counted  on  his 
swooping  down  on — you.  Again,  God,  what 
I  risked!" 

"Yes,"  answered  Rose  Mary  in  a  voice  that 
barely  controlled  the  cold  horror  of  the 
thought  that  rose  between  them,  "it  almost 
happened.  I  thought  I  ought  to — to  save 
them,  even  if  Uncle  Tucker  wouldn't  let  me, 
and  I  gave  Bob  that  note — to — to  him.  It 
almost  happened — to-morrow.  Quick,  hold 
me  close — don't  let  me  think  about  it — ever!"' 
and  Rose  Mary  shuddered  in  the  crush  of  Ev- 
erett's arms. 

310 


"You  won't  ever  leave  me  any  more?" 


IN    THE   HOLLOW   OF   HIS   HAND 

"Out  in  the  world,  Rose  Mary,"  said  Ev- 
erett as  he  lifted  his  lips  from  hers,  "it  would 
have  happened — the  tragedy,  and  you  would 
have  been  the  loot;  but  down  here  in  Harpeth 
Valley  they  grow  men  like  your  Uncle  Tucker, 
and  they  turn,  by  a  strange  motive  power, 
wheels  that  do  not  crush,  but — lift.  I  left  you 
in  danger  because  I  had  schemed  it  out  in  my 
world's  way,  fool,  fool  that  I — " 

"Please,  please  don't  say  things  about  your- 
self like  that  to  me,"  pleaded  Rose  Mary, 
quickly  raising  her  head  and  smiling  through 
her  tears  at  him.  "Go  on  and  tell  me  what 
you  did  find  out  there  in  the  pasture;  don't 
blow  off  any  more  of  my  foam!" 

"Cobalt,  if  you  care  to  know,"  answered 
Everett  with  an  excited  laugh,  "the  richest  de- 
posit in  the  States  I  found  out — beats  a  gold 
mine  all  hollow.  I  came  on  it  almost  acci- 
dentally while  testing  for  the  allied  metals  up 
the  creek.  Your  money  will  grow  in  bunches 
now,  for  the  biggest  and  the  best  mining  syn- 


ROSE   OF    OLD    HARPETH 

dicate  in  New  York  has  taken  it  up.  You  can 
just  shake  down  the  dollars  and  do  what  you 
please  from  now  on." 

"You'll  have  to  do  that  sort  of  orchard 
work,  I'll  be  busy  in  the  house,"  answered  Rose 
Mary,  with  a  rapturous,  breathless  shyness, 
and  she  held  out  her  hand  to  him  with  the  most 
lovely  of  all  her  little  gestures  of  entreaty. 
"You  promised  once  to  farm  for  me  and — you 
v/on't  ever  leave — ever  leave  me  any  more, 
will  you  ?" 

"No,  never,"  answered  Everett  as  he  took 
both  her  hands  and  at  arms'  length  pressed 
them  against  his  breast,  "I'm  not  going  to 
enact  over  again  the  role  of  poor  chap  obliged 
to  be  persuaded  into  matrimony  by  heiress, 
but  I'm  going  to  take  my  own  and  buckle 
down  and  see  that  you  people  get  every  cent 
of  that  dig-up  that's  coming  to  you.  With 
the  reputation  this  find  gives  me  I'll  be  able 
to  jolly  well  grubstake  with  commissions  from 
now  on,  but  I'll  hit  no  trail  after  this  with  a 
312 


IN    THE    HOLLOW   OF    HIS    HAND 

mule-pack  that  can't  carry  double,  Mary  of  the 
Rose." 

"And  that  doesn't  always  lead  back  in  just 
a  little  time  to — to  the  nesties?"  she  asked  with 
the  dove  stars  deep  in  the  pools  of  her  eyes, 
while  ever  so  slightly  her  hands  drew  him  to- 
ward her. 

"Always  a  blazed,  short  cut  when  they  need 
— us,"  he  answered,  yielding,  then  paused  a 
moment  and  held  himself  from  her  and  said, 
looking  deep  into  the  eyes  raised  to  his,  "Truly, 
rose  woman,  am  I  that  beggar-man  who  came 
over  the  Ridge,  cold,  and  in  the  tatters  of  his 
disillusion  ?  Do  you  suppose  Old  Harpeth  has 
given  me  this  warm  garment  of  ideals  that 
wraps  me  now  for  keeps  ?" 

"Of  course,  he  has,  for  it's  made  for  you 
of  your — Father's  love.  And  isn't  it — rose- 
colored  ?" 


tlBRAHY 


